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#they leave on sunday or mondays usually ;-;
whimsyprinx · 1 year
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I love watching people play games so much ugh
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dokyeomini · 2 years
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why do parents think they can scare their children out of being mentally ill
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violetszone · 2 months
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High-school Sweetheart
Charles x fem!reader
From this request
Summary: You had been dating Charles since high school, and you had just gotten engaged this year. Of course, that's what everyone thought; in fact, it had been four years since you got married.
A/n:No proofread was made. But i loveeeee this theme.
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Actually, it had been almost four years since you married Charles. You were 15 and he was 17 when you first met and started dating in high school. You've been dating ever since. Of course, when you turned 20 or 22, both of you thought it was a very good decision to vow not to leave each other and got married in court. You woke up on a Monday, went to court, and got married. Only two people knew about this: Charles' older brother, Lorenzo, and his best friend, Pierre. Since you started living together after high school, no one actually noticed anything.
You were very close to his family, and people regarded your relationship as a real fairy tale. Arthur was even always joking about how he was still surprised that his brother hadn’t lost you.
This year, you were officially engaged to Charles. You were now 24 years old, and Charles was 26 years old. It actually made you very happy to finally be able to wear the ring given to you by your husband of 4 years. As usual, you were sitting and having Sunday breakfast with Charles's family and your friends, having a good time. You were helping Charles's mother, Pascale, in the kitchen with Kika. As you returned to the table with plates in your hands, you walked up to the men to call them from the poolside. Charles stood up, smiling, and placed his arms around you, kissing your cheek.
""How's my beautiful wife?" Forgetting that the others thought you two were engaged, you smiled and hugged Charles back. Arthur spoke as he stood behind you, "Soon-to-be wife. Charles, you immediately got into the mood." He laughed. As Charles looked at you lovingly and brushed your hair out of your face, he raised an eyebrow at Arthur and spoke over his shoulder, "What makes you think she's not my wife?" You narrowed your eyes and gently tapped Charles on the shoulder. Arthur frowned. "The fact that you just got engaged?"
Charles and you looked at each other and laughed. Pierre stood watching the events nervously. "Here we go," he said while rubbing his face. While Pierre was holding Arthur, who looked surprised, by the shoulders and walking him to the table, Arthur objected, "What do you mean, Charles? Wait a second...." Charles held your hands and led you to the table. Pascale got angry at Arthur in French and then turned to Charles. "What did you say to your brother again? Now the boy won't be silent all day."
This time, Pierre hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Oh no," he groaned. You smiled softly at Charles. "Tell them," you shrugged. Charles walked behind you and put his hands on your shoulders. "Y/N and I have actually been married for four years." Everyone looked at the two of you in shock. Arthur fell off his chair. Lorenzo was trying not to look at anyone while stuffing bread into his mouth. Pascale turned to him. "You knew about this!" she exclaimed. As Pierre slowly turned his back to the table, Kika pinched him. Pascale looked at Pierre this time. "You too?!" she asked in disbelief.
"We were the only ones who didn't know!" Of course, though they were shocked at first, they were actually very happy. Both approached Pascale, hugged her, kissed her, and tried to win her heart. Pascale still kept telling you that they were going to have a beautiful wedding, then she smiled at the two of you.
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?
Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader
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Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.
Maybe you watched too many movies.
Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.
Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.
In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.
Things like,
Still young, I want to explore…
How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?
Last bit of freedom before being tied down…
If you love me and our relationship…
You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.
An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.
You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.
You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.
Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.
It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.
Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.
The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.
“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”
You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.
The perfect place to be out but alone.
You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.
“Love that one.”
You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.
“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”
You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”
He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”
He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…
“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.
He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”
His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”
Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.
You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.
You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.
You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.
He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.
Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.
“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”
You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.
“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.
Kyle frowns. “What about you?”
You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.
“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”
Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.
“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”
You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.
“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”
His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.
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d10nyx · 2 months
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over again
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, dark content, heavy dub-con, forced ddlg, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, fingering, p in v, creampie, mentions of past drugging, daddy kink, lots of pet names
a/n: took me forever n ever to write this ahhh sorry :/ hope you all enjoy it !! feedback always appreciated !! hopefully the writers block will finally perish.
word count: 1.6k words
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14 weeks. 98 days. 2352 hours.
Leon leaves the house at 7.30 am every morning, except for Sundays. From Monday to Thursday, he's home around 6 pm. On Fridays, he isn't home until around 9 pm. Saturdays are the worst because he's home just after lunch.
Usually, when he comes home, he goes to the bedroom and unlocks the door to let you out. He threads his hand in your leash to take you upstairs, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he takes you to the kitchen to eat a meal. He gives you your food on a pink, plastic princess plate with plastic cutlery, and cuts the food into bite size pieces. More often than not, he hand feeds you.
You don't fight it. You'd learned your lesson. You refused food from him once. For 2 out of your 14 weeks locked up in his home, he'd underfed you to the point of starvation until you were begging him to feed you. He sat you in his lap, cooing all sweet as you chewed and swallowed every mouthful he'd given you. That day was the first day he slept with you.
It wasn't all bad. He was sweet. Gentle. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was a loving boyfriend. Someone who cared for you, not the creep who'd snatched you from the street after you had a few too many drinks at your friend's party, promising you a better life, safe from the world.
But he isn't sweet, or nice, or kind. He didn't do this for you, despite what his twisted brain tells him. You can pretend all you want that he's something other than what he is, but it doesn't change what he is. A monster.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“Where's my little princess?” Leon's asking as soon as he walks into the house, kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket up at the door. You recently got free reign of the home for being on your best behaviour. Didn't even have to keep the leash attached to your collar anymore. Lucky you.
“Here, daddy.” You say meekly, poking your head out of the living room to approach him, fiddling awkwardly with the edge of your shirt. Head down, so he doesn't have to see the defeated expression on your face as you force out the words, swallowing thickly to hold back your tears.
“You have a good day, sweetheart? You do any coloring in those cute little books I got you?” Leon's hands come up to your cheeks, gently stroking his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. You shake your head, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from saying something.
“No? Why not, baby? You don't like them? I got the one with lots of kitties. Pretty girls like you like cute things, don't they?” He coos, squishing your cheeks in his hands to make your lips all pouty so he can lean down and give them a little kiss, letting out a loud ‘mwah’ as soon as his lips make contact.
“You eat at least? I left some food in a lunchbox for you.” You shake your head again, and this time it seems to elicit a worse reaction. His brows furrow, and his hand grips your face even tighter. “No? Silly baby… can't do anything without daddy, can you? Come on. Daddy'll feed you, cutie.”
He heats up some food for you and puts it on a plate. The pink, plastic princess plate. He sits you on his lap and feeds it to you from a fork. Pink, plastic fork. The routine is the same, no matter how much you wish for it to change. When you finish eating, he presses a tender kiss to your head and rocks you in his arms.
“Such a good girl. Good girls get rewarded, princess.” He murmurs, pressing soft kisses against the skin of your neck, trailing them up until he's nosing at the hair behind your ear. His hand slides up your thigh and under your skirt, his thumb swiping your swollen bud through the already damp fabric. It didn't matter if you didn't want it. Your body didn't seem to understand what was happening - all it knew was Leon made you feel good. You hated how compliant you got when he touched you, how any thoughts of defiance melted away.
You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.
You whimper as he dips his hand under the waistband of your panties. He parts your puffy lips with practiced ease as he continues on with the next part of his routine. 98 days later and he's mapped every inch of your body perfectly - found out everything that has you keening under his touch. Your hips buck as he runs his fingertip between your folds, gathering slick before rubbing small circles into your clit.
“Poor, dumb baby. She's soaking me already. You couldn't make yourself feel good when daddy was gone, huh, sweetheart?” His words are followed up by a finger burying itself in your tight heat, curling to find that gummy spot that has you clenching around him and bucking your hips. “Pretty princess cunt's been drooling for me all day.”
A choked sob leaves you when he pulls his cock out and sits you on top of it. He pulls you down until he's buried to the hilt, groaning as you tighten around his length. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with tiny little kisses. You can't help but cry whenever Leon fucks you. 98 days later and you still sob whenever he bullies your cervix with his dick. No matter how many times he makes you cum or makes you go dumb on his cock, it doesn't change anything. He took everything from you - your family, your friends, your job.
You hated yourself more than Leon. For letting him break your walls down. For clinging to him as he tightens his grip on your waist, manhandling you on his cock, lifting you up and down. For finding yourself missing him when he's at work.
“Love…love you, daddy…” Your words come out more like a cry, nose all runny and cheeks wet with tears as he fucks up into you, his head shifting to hang back in pleasure. His fingers dig into your waist as he hears the words, a breathy laugh leaving him as he smiles - all toothy and bright like it always is when you say that.
“Love you even more, princess.” He grunts out, leaning back on the seat to force himself deeper into your pussy, guiding your hips back and forth so you're grinding his cock inside of you, rubbing your pretty clit against his happy trail. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping into his shoulders as your brows furrow in pleasure.
“Daddy… daddy…” You gasp out as your orgasm hits, your lips parting as you gush all over him. The look on your face as you cum is enough to have his balls tighten, his teeth gritting as he starts to shallowly thrust into you once more, chasing his own release. You always cry when you cum, and Leon always kisses the tears away when you do, his lips pressing against the wetness on your cheeks repeatedly. Another part of the ritual, another moment repeating day after day.
“Want daddy to fill you up, sweet girl?” He grunts, nipping at your neck as he wraps his arms tight around your waist in a bear hug, holding you steady as he fucks up into your drippy cunt. “Gonna warm you up right in that cute lil’ tummy.”
His hips stutter as his orgasm hits him, his jaw going slack as he presses the tip of his cock right up against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his sticky cum. He slides a hand under your shirt, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your tummy.
“That's it. Keep it all in, okay? Daddy doesn't want to see his little angel spill a single drop.” He says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He holds you there for a couple of minutes, cradling you against his chest until it's time to go to sleep.
Before bed that night, Leon ushers you into the bathroom. Like every night before this one, he gently grips your jaw with one hand as he stands behind you, his other hand gripping your pink princess toothbrush as he brushes your teeth, his eyes locked onto you through the mirror. At bedtime, he tucks you in and curls up behind you, spooning you with one hand on one of your tits, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist.
Tomorrow is a Friday. He wakes you up at 6.30 am with a kiss to your head as always, a warm cup of milk in one hand and your breakfast in the other. He feeds you off of a pink, plastic princess plate and presses a kiss to your lips before leaving at 7.30 am on the dot.
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obsessedelusional · 3 months
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chocolate (smut)
paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader
summary ↬ You’ve been with Eddie for over three years, it’s only natural that the two of you would get comfortable? But are you too comfortable? It’s been nearly a month since you two had sex. When you realize that it sends you into a panic, desperate to find that spark again. You purchase enhancing chocolate and a sexy outfit, as a a surprise. What happens when your plans fall through, causing a argument?
word count ↬ 2.4K
a/n: thank you for all the love on my last eddie one shot, inspired me to finish this.. which if I’m being entirely honest is from a request from well over a year ago and has been sitting unfinished since then.. anyways.. luveeee you
Feedback & Reblogs appreciated! Thank you ᜊ
Being three years into a relationship things can become stagnant but you always swore that would never happen to your relationship with Eddie. Yet here you two were on your way into the roommate phase. You two too comfortable cohabiting, like a couple of friends sharing a bedroom. A bedroom that hasn’t seen any action in weeks. Three weeks, four days to be exact.
A few day shy of a month is when it hit you like a ton of bricks. Sending you into a deep one sided spiral focused on your relationship with Eddie. No one’s to blame, both of your work schedules taking up so much time. Eddie worked Monday through Friday at the local mechanic shop. His weekends usually spent with his band. Between attending college and work, you we’re just as busy.
It was a rare occasion that your schedules aligned to have the same day off. So when a coworker asked to switch days off so they could have Tuesday off and you’d be off on Sunday, you happily agreed. Deciding in that moment you’d do something to reignite the relationship.
After some thought you decided to surprise Eddie with some sexy goodies. A quick trip to the local sex shop and less than a hundred dollars later, you have a bag full of supplies. You decided on a black lace lingerie set that didn’t leave much up to the imagination and aphrodisiac chocolate. Something you have never done with Eddie before. When you get home Eddie isn’t there so you hide your new things saving them for Sunday.
“You work today?” Eddie asks curiously, when he comes out of the bathroom to find you sat in the kitchen. Normally by now you were long gone, it’s almost noon and he’s just waking up.
“No someone wanted to switch so I have today off.” You explain, smile plastered across your face. It was Sunday afternoon and you were excited to execute your plans. Eddie moves closer towards you, examining the spread of breakfast you prepared for him.
“What’s all this for?” He asks reaching for a slice of bacon throwing it into his mouth.
“For you. Just wanted to do something special.” You respond, Eddie wraps his half naked body around you enveloping you in a tight hug.
“Thank you baby.” He says face digging into your shoulder, smelling your hair. He pulls away just far enough to brush it out of the way. Moving in again, kissing up your neck. You have so much pent up sexual frustration you’re ready to say fuck this food and your entire plan, ready to let Eddie take you right then and there.
Before you can take it to the next level, he pulls away completely. Grabbing a plate and serving himself the food you prepared. Eddie doesn’t notice the exaggerated eye roll you give just sits down at the table, filling his face.
“This is delicious,” he mumbles between chewing bringing a smile back to you. You join him with your own plate, sitting next to him. He does the silly little thing he’s always done, dragging your chair with you in it closer to him. He looks proud when your close enough to his liking, going back to the meal in front of him. You eat filled with contentment that after all these years he still does the tiny things still.
“Any plans for today?” You ask. Eddie looks up from a his plate like he’s thinking.
“Yeah the bands meeting at two to practice for a few hours.” He says, your face tells on you falling into a frown.
“I promise as soon as we’re done. You’ll have my full undivided attention all night, okay?” He does his best to reassure you but you can’t help but feel irritated and it’s apparent in your demeanor.
“Is there something else you wanted to do today?” He asks, confused by your sudden change in mood.
“I had a surprise for you but I’ll guess it’ll wait.”
“What was it?” He asks.
“It can wait... You can find out when ever you decide to come home.” You respond, the annoyance heavy in your tone.
“Whatever.” He laughs causing an unreasonable amount of anger to flood over you.
“Whatever? I just wanted to do something for us today.” You raise your voice standing up in the process, leaving Eddie sat alone at the table. He lets out an defeated groan, you ignore it. Heading straight to your bedroom. Suddenly the apartment feels too small wishing you could escape somewhere else. Crawling into bed, hiding under the covers letting the frustrated tears fall.
You’re not sure how much time has passed, you had fallen asleep after you and Eddie’s little tiff. The sound of someone entering the room is what stirs you, the feeling of Eddie climbing into bed next to you is what fully wakes you. He slips through the covers, finding you and cuddling with you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You roll over to face him, he looks genuinely upset.
“I’m sorry too.” You sigh. Eddie goes to talk but you cut him short by speaking up.
“I just wanted to do something special for you because we’ve basically turned into roommates.”
“Baby that’s not true.”
“It is Eddie. We haven’t had sex in almost a month.”
“No it hasn’t been…” His voice trails off trying to remember the last time, drawing a blank.
“It’s no one’s fault, we’re both just busy. I was so excited to spend today with you, I should have told you beforehand not just expected you.” You say, holding back tears. Eddie has started lightly tracing the side of your face listening to you speak.
“The insecure part of me has been spiraling for the last week, thinking the worst. That maybe we haven’t done anything because you don’t want me anymore.” As you talk the tears slowly trickle out from your eyes, landing on your pillow. Eddie wipes away at your tears before responding, pulling you in closer in the process.
“That is far from the case, baby. I love you so much. I’ve been working so much and focusing on the band. I forgot to prioritize you.” He pulls you all the way, slipping an arm under you hugging you tightly. Placing a sweet kiss on your head.
After a much needed conversation that lasted a solid hour, Eddie and you were still laid in bed. Topic had moved on to something less heavy. Eddie was now sat up in bed, you resting your head in his lap while he plays with your hair. You had just found out that he skipped practice because he felt so shitty.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I’m glad I did. This was needed. Plus how will I ever get my surprise, huh?” You shake your head no feeling as if the moments been ruined.
“Come on just tell me what it was.” He begs, you push up from his lap to see his face. His big brown puppy eyes on full display, bottom lip pouting. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted. You groan before getting out of bed and heading straight to the drawer where you hid the goodies. In a swift motion you pull out the plastic bag, tossing it at Eddie. He catches it pulling out the items inside.
“This isn’t gonna fit me.” He jokes, holding the lingerie by a single strap. You roll your eyes before snatching it out of his hands. He continues digging through the bag finding the special chocolate.
“Chocolate?” He asks confused.
“It’s enhancing chocolate.” His face is still full of confusion.
“It’s suppose to stimulate blood flow, enhances performance.” You explain watching as Eddie reads over the box.
“What are we waiting for?” He asks, ripping open the package. Before you can protest he plops his half in his mouth, passing you the other half. You follow in his lead eating the chocolate.
“How long does it take?” Eddie asks, examining the box further.
“20 to 40 minutes? What the hell are we supposed to do until then?” He says throwing the box the side, looking up at you. Eyes going from the lingerie to your face, his grin growing.
“We can start with you putting that on.” Eddie suggests.
A few long minutes later, you come out of the bathroom dressed in your new lingerie. His eyes find you, muttering ‘fuck’. He stands up from the bed approaching you. Once he’s a few inches away from, his hands find your hips. Letting himself explore your body in this new outfit. Tracing the lacey undergarment with his hands.
“You are so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts your face before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You return the kiss, you fingers reaching behind his neck. Finding his hair and tangling them in the nape of his neck, tugging slightly. Just enough to elicit a small moan from his lips.
You two are twisted together, without breaking the kiss he begins to take a few steps back. You follow as he sits on the bed, climbing into his lap. Pushing him till he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. You’re eager, ready to take it farther kissing down his neck. Lowering your body, pressing delicate kisses along his torso as you go.
Eddie watches closely as you pull his bottoms off, lifting his hips and helping you to get him undressed. As soon as he’s fully nude, your making yourself comfortable inbetween his legs.
“How do I know it’s the chocolate and not what you’re doing that has my dick so hard?” He questions, making you roll your eyes laugh in softly.
“Shh..” You respond, taking his erection in your hand pumping it slowly.
When he doesn’t shut up trying to press the question again, you kiss his tip before licking the crown of his cock. That shuts him up, watching your lips part around him. Your head moving up and down. Eddie lets his moans out as his tip hits the back of your throat. His eyes nearly roll in the back of his head when your hand starts to play with his balls.
“F-fuck!” Eddie groans as he gently pushes your head lower, enjoying the sight of his cock dissaprering into your throat.
A mess of your saliva pools at the base of his cock. He holds you there for a few moments, tears forming at your eyes until he lets go. You quickly lift your head, a long web of drool hangs from your lips to his cock. You make eye contact wipe it away then use that hand to pump him again.
Before you can continue, he’s guiding you up his body. Kissing your swollen and slick lips. Your core rests on his wet cock, you don’t waste a moment grinding your hips. Both of you moan into the kiss at the friction. His cock slips through your folds, hitting your clit. It feels too good and he hasn’t even entered yet. You’ve been waiting too long for this, so you raise your hips. He takes the hint aligning himself with your hole. You sink down slowly, inch by inch.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Eddie mutters, his hands gripping your hips. The feeling of being filled is overwhelming. The stretch is a bit paniful but in the best way possible. You look down at Eddie before moving your hips at a steady pace. Both of you moaning, his grip tightening leaving marks in their wake. Guiding your hips to move faster.
Your pace quickens, taking him deeply. Every inch of him plunging into your warmth. You’re too distracted by the sensation to notice him pulling you closer. Eddie hungrily kissing you, his tongue asking for permission by sliding against your lips. Your mouth opens, tongues meeting each other. Without any warning Eddie’s hips thrust into you. A moan breaks the kiss, as he continues to jerk himself into you. His movements matching yours. It stops for a moment only because Eddie is rolling over on top of you.
“Get on your knees, I want to fuck you from behind.” He demands and you gladly listen. Positioning yourself infront of him, your ass up and face down.
Eddie take his cock, pushing it in one quick thrust. Watching as he disappears into your hole. He’s pounding into you, giving you no time to adjust. Your whimpers grow louder as he fucks you at a brutal pace. The sensation of his balls hitting your clit adds to the pleasure.
You’re gripping the sheets, pushing back against his thrusts. Eddie grabs a fist of your hair, pulling it. Tears swell at your eyes, it hurts so good. As you bite your lip, he continues his pace. Fucking you so roughly. Your body begins to tremble as you get closer to your finish, letting Eddie know your close. That what he is doing is working.
You disolve into pleasure, your body becoming putty as he keeps pounding into you. A chocked sob leaves your mouth as you come undone. Your walls spasm bringing Eddie closer to his end. With a few more jerks of hips he’s coming, panting your walls with his seed. He releases your hair, kissing your shoulder tenderly. He pulls out, dropping onto his back. You lay down next to him. Your chests heaving as you both try to breathe.
“How long is it supposed to last?” Eddie asks so you reach for the box.
“Uh… effect could last up to three hours.” You read out loud.
“I feel like I could go again.” He admits, looking down at his erection.
“Yeah?” You ask eagerly.
“Mhmm we have to make up for lost time.” He says, facing you bringing his lips to your chest. Nibbling softly on your skin.
“But I think it’s only fair I taste you this time.” He whispers, kissing down your stomach and to your core.
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highvern · 11 days
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YUCK
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: fluff, suggestive moments
warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy
Length: ~2.9k
Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore
series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], Talk [a, s, f]
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable. 
You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact). 
It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him. 
You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.
Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.
Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.
Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.
“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”
“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway. 
She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.
You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.
“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor. 
Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.” 
“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”
“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.” 
“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?” 
“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought.  “When was the last time you showered?” 
“I don’t know. Like two days ago?” 
“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.” 
His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though. 
“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.” 
“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.” 
“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.” 
Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady. 
Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he’s kept you in his arms the entire time.
“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch. 
You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.
“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.” 
You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?” 
Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.” 
You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.
“I can do that on my own,” you argue. 
The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.
“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”
He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close. 
How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.
Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.
When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.
“Hmmm?” 
“I said, it’s time to get out.”
More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.
“Alright, arms up,” he commands. 
You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.
“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head. 
“And you call me a freak?”
Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.
You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet. 
Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him. 
And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.
“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”
The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.
After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance. 
“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.
He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.” 
Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.
You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.
“Why?” 
“Because I just do.” 
Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not. 
“I don’t date.” 
“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.
“You aren’t gonna argue?” 
“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.” 
You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.” 
“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”
“Deal with the devil.”
He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.
“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”
“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”
“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.
“It really wasn’t any trouble.”
It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.
“I’m tired,” you tell him. 
The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way. 
You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.
Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.
“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.
“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”
You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does. 
I sleep better when you’re here.
You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.
It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.
What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.
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rboooks · 1 year
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DPxDC fic idea: The Infinite Realms Hobby Store
Danny Fenton drops out of school on his sister's recommendation to aim for a GED. Then two weeks after he does receive his high school equivalence document, Danny and his sister Jasmine pack up and move to Gotham, where they promptly open their own business. A small hobby store that's during rather well for itself, especially with offered classes to learn said hobbies.
The instructors of the classes are all a rather colorful bunch that don't seem from Gotham but aren't bad like outsiders usually are.
The siblings continue their education through online courses and attend Gotham University. Jasmine studying psychology and Danny studying engineering.
They don't seem like up-and-coming villains who may be behind the strange changes in the city. Nothing terrible has happened so far but that's just it. Nothing has happened, and if that doesn't make every citizen's skin crawl, nothing else will.
It's like the core of Gotham is breaking away, and no one knows what it is or if it's a good thing.
Tim Drake, disguised as Alvin Draper, signed up for the offered Photography class to prove they were and stop them before it's too late.
Danny and Jazz are aware there is something strange about Alvin Draper.
Still, they have thier hands tied, prepping Danny to take the Ghost Throne, keeping up with college, trying to fix a crumbled relationship with their parents after the Big Reveal, and keeping all of Danny's ex-Rouges satisfying their obsessions by having them express it through a hobby.
Ember teaches guitar on Mondays.
Technus does coding an hour before her.
Lunch lady has a cooking lesson on Tuesday.
Poindexter does miniature models on Wednesdays.
Kitty got Photography and modeling on Thursdays.
Johnny, who is never too far away from her, runs his crocheting class at the same time.
And Ghost Writer does creative writing on Fridays.
Saturdays is a surprise course by whichever ghost is free that week, and Sundays they are closed.
They just can't find the time or energy to figure out that guy's deal. Best to leave Alvin alone.
They hope to stay out of Batman's radar long enough to break all the curses Gotham is dosed in. It's one of Danny's first real jobs as Ghost King, so he's trying his best, but come on, this place is a mess.
Not to mention the people generally seemed unhappy to have the curses gone. Apparently it doesn't feel right or something.
(Johnny insists Alvin is just a bisexual disaster who has a crush on both of them but Johnny is also a bisexual disaster so the Fenton siblings don't listen to him.)
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javiscigarette · 11 months
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Good Luck Charm
Joel Miller x f!reader (pre outbreak)
Summary: Joel loves the Texas Longhorns and you're just needy (someone please make an edit of him wearing any Longhorns merch im begging)
Warnings: smut (duh), established relationship, mainly just cockwarming, with a daddy kink, and heavy on the dirty talk, cream pie, ass play, whatever else I'm forgetting, no use of Y/N
w/c: 3.3k
A/N: Here's something no one asked for! This definitely isn't my best work but I'm in a funk rn and it's the best I could do! Also hello daddy kink apparently! Oh! And I hit 1k followers a while ago so thank you for that!!! So many hugs and smoochies for everyone ilysm guys 😚🫶🥰❤️❤️❤️ ALSO the AMAZING EDIT MADE BY @serenaxpedro !!!!
my masterlist
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There were two things that Joel loved wholeheartedly: you and the Texas Longhorns. 
Joel goes all out for football season. Each year, as soon as September rolls around, you rarely find him without his Longhorns cap on. In the car, it’s not music, it’s a live radio broadcast or a recap of the latest game. And God fucking forbid if you even thought about touching the TV on a Sunday or Monday night.  
And now It’s a Sunday evening in September and the Longhorns are playing, which means Joel is completely preoccupied.  
You waltz down the stairs and into the living room clad in nothing but his Longhorns t-shirt that ends at your midthigh. You find him sitting on the couch, a half empty bottle of beer in his hand with his eyes glued to the screen. He doesn’t notice you at first and you have to stand practically right in front of the TV for him to take his eyes off the screen. When he finally does, he rakes his eyes over your body, a crooked smirk spreading across his face when he sees what you’re wearing.
Thankfully, you caught him at the start of a commercial break. So, he leans back and pats his knee and beckons you over with a soft “C’mere pretty girl.” 
It’s the first bit of attention he’s given you all evening, so you happily bounce over to him and climb into his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and your arms draped around his neck. 
“You look so fuckin’ good in this, angel” Joel says, his voice already husky with arousal as he smooths his hands up your thighs. 
“Thank you, daddy” you whisper with an innocent giggle. 
He looks up at you and cocks an eyebrow. You’re no stranger to calling him that, but Joel usually has to spend a lot more time taking you apart for you to use it. 
“You gettin’ needy, sweet girl?” he coos, his hands sliding over your hips and over the curve of your ass. 
You don’t say anything, just grind your hips down harshly, moaning softly at the friction. Joel chuckles at your eagerness while palming at your ass. 
“The game is almost over, angel. Just one more quarter and then I’ll play with you all you want.” 
You huff in frustration. 
“But you’ve been in here all day” you whine. 
Joel laughs again. 
“I’ve barely been in here for two hours, angel. Think you’re just needy” he retorts, poking you in the side with a playful smile.
You huff again and tug at the curls at the nape of his neck as you roll your hips against his. 
“Please?” you ask, your voice drenched in desperation. “I’ll be a good girl and stay still so you can watch the game. Just wanna feel you inside me.” 
Joel eyes you and his hands tighten on your hips as you continue to move against his. 
“Can’t say no when you ask so pretty like that.” 
You grin ear to ear and Joel rolls his eyes. 
“Needy and spoiled” Joel teases as he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt. 
With his eyes fixed on yours, his palms slide up your thigh, leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake. He reaches the crease of your thigh and stops suddenly with a sharp inhale. He raises an eyebrow at you as he trails his fingers over the bare skin that should be covered by your panties. 
You look at him, feigning innocence as you chew on the corner of your lip to suppress a mischievous smile. He narrows his eyes at you as he slowly slides a finger along your already soaking wet seam. You’re far too wet and swollen just from sitting in his lap for less than two minutes. And when he slides a finger into your leaking hole, he can obviously feel it. He looks down and sees the wet spot that’s already forming on the front of his jeans. 
“Needy, spoiled, and naughty” he purrs, his voice low and gravelly. “S’that what you were doin’ up there all by yourself, babygirl? Stretchin’ your sweet little pussy so you could come down here and sit on daddy’s cock?” 
All you can manage is a vigorous nod, a needy whine, and another roll of your hips, trying to get his finger deeper inside you. He graciously slips in a second finger with minimal resistance and lets out a soft groan as your leak starts to leak past his fingers and drips to his palm. 
“Tell me how you did it” Joel commands calmly as curls his fingers and starts moving his wrist with languid strokes.
You whimper pathetically and clench tightly around his fingers as he slowly strokes your g-spot. 
“J-just on my fingers, daddy” you whimper while trying to grind your clit against his palm.
Joel hums suspiciously.
“How many?”
“Just shit – just two.”   
“Did you cum, babygirl? Did you cum with your fingers stuffed in your little cunt?” 
Joel’s voice is so low now, his gravelly timbre sending a shiver down your spine. You shake your head and whine again and nose at his neck, hoping that a few neck kisses might distract him. But of course, they don’t. 
“C’mon, sweetheart. Be a big girl and use your words” 
“No, daddy” you mumble, dropping your head to avoid his gaze. 
Joel moves a hand from your thigh to under your chin, tilting your head up and forcing you to look at him again. 
“Why’s that angel?” he presses. 
“Needed you, daddy. Couldn’t do it myself. Didn’t want to do it myself” you confess, your cheeks heating up at the admission. 
Even after all this time with Joel, he still easily made you a blushing, flustered mess within seconds. 
“My poor little baby” Joel coos with sarcastic empathy. “Just a needy little slut for daddy’s cock, huh?”
You nod shyly and tug at his hair again. Joel just smirks at you before focusing on the screen again. 
“Get it out then, angel. Game is ‘bout to start again” 
With a jolt of excitement, you scramble to tug his pants halfway down his thighs. Your mouth waters when you free his cock, his length hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your eyes flicker up to him and he looks at you through the corner of his eye, gives you a slight permissive nod then looks back at the TV. 
You move to hover over him before you start slowly sinking down on his cock, both of you moaning in unison at the sensation of him stretching your tight walls. It’s a stretch, it always is, especially when he doesn’t get the chance to open you up on his fingers. 
“You’re so big, daddy” you pant breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulder as you stretch yourself out on his length. 
“Don’t tell me it’s too much after begged to be filled, baby.” Joel chides. 
You make a small noise and double down on your efforts. You whimper softly as you start sinking again, feeling every single inch of him stretch you out your little hole so deliciously. You exhale deeply once you’re full seated. Joel lets out a quiet groan and tightens his grip on your hip. 
“God fuckin damn, babygirl” Joel says quietly. “Always so tight for your daddy.” 
Your sink your teeth into your lower lip, biting back a moan at his words, trying to prove to him that you can be good. It takes a moment for you to resist the urge to ride him, but soon enough the desperation melts into relaxation, the feeling of being so full of him satisfying all your needs. He’s not even fully hard yet and your walls tingle and flutter around him as he continues to swell inside of you. With a sated sigh, you lay your head on his broad shoulder, and you let your eyes close. He holds you close to him, a protective arm draped over you stroking your back absentmindedly. 
“S’this all you wanted, sweet pea? Just needed daddy inside of ya?” he asks, his hand still gliding over your back and occasionally squeezing your ass. 
You nod and snuggle up into him even more. You could die happy right here, stuffed full of Joel with his heart beating against your cheek, warm and safe in his embrace. 
There’s no resisting falling into the overwhelming sense of tranquility that settles deep in your bones. Your breathing starts to slow down as you melt against his body and your head goes fuzzy when you bury your face in the junction of his neck and inhale the intoxicating scent of fresh laundry mixed with his cologne. You’re vaguely aware that Joel is talking to the TV, the sound of his voice fading in and out of your head. But you don’t bother making any sense of the words. You just focus on the rumble of his chest as speaks. 
After a few quiet minutes, he reaches over to the side table to pick up his beer, jostling you around a bit in the process. You make a small noise at the movement, his cock sliding just a bit further inside you to press against that spot deep inside you. You can feel every twitch and surge of his cock inside you, your body responding with a fresh gush of slick to each one, leaving you dripping mess in his lap. 
Joel finishes his beer in two gulps and sets it back down on the table before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You’ve been good so far, staying still and not moving like you promised and the game is almost over. So, Joel decides to give you a little reward. 
He brings his free hand up to your face and traces the line of your jaw and cheekbone with a knuckle. You practically purr and nuzzle into the gentle touch. And as if he can read your mind, probably because he can at this point, he rests two fingertips, cool and damp from the condensation on his beer bottle on your lips. 
You automatically part your lips, giving him silent permission to slide his fingers into you warm, wet mouth. He can’t stop the groan that bubbles up out of his throat as you suck his fingers mindlessly, your cunt clenches rhythmically around him.
He turns his head away from the screen just long enough to see your eyes rolling in bliss under your closed eyelids with drool starting to dribble out past his fingers and down your chin. 
“Bein’ so good, pretty girl” he whispers, pushing his fingers further back and pressing down against your tongue, making a strained sound when you gag. 
“Sound so pretty too gaggin’ on my fingers like that.” 
You keen at his praise and reflexively roll your hips. He shushes you and tightens his grip on your hip, keeping you in place. You squeeze your eyes shut and pant against his neck when he resituates again, his thick head now firmly pushing against your sweet spot. 
You let out a soft mewl, the sound muffled by the fingers shoved down your throat. Joel hisses quietly when you dig your fingernails into the backs of his shoulders. There will be some pretty marks there in the morning. 
“Game’s almost over, sweetpea. Can you hold on for five more minutes? Can you do that for daddy?”  
You nod lazily against him and try to stay as still as possible. You want to be good; you really do. But it’s a herculean effort with him buried so deep inside of you, pressing against all the right places. 
Joel slowly slides his fingers out of your mouth and shushes you again when you whine quietly. You open one eye to watch as he lowers it behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing but your certainly feel it when he spreads your cheeks with one hand and feels where you’re connected. 
“Oh, baby” Joel sighs, feeling how much you’re leaking out around him. “Making such a mess, sweet girl.” He whispers roughly. 
He gathers some of your slick on his already spit-soaked fingers before moving his finger higher to circle your tight hole. 
“Daddy!” you whine, lifting your head in surprise to look at him. 
“Hush, baby” Joel commands. He doesn’t even look at you as he cradles the back of your head with his freehand and forcing you to rest your head back on his shoulder. He stopped watching the game a while ago, but he keeps his gaze fixed to the TV knowing that his lack of attention gets you all the more worked up.  “Let daddy play with his little toy.” 
His hand leaves your head and spreads you open once again. And all you can do is lie there, helpless, and desperate at the mercy of your lover’s hands. 
“You’re so naughty, baby” Joel whispers, as he prods at the tight ring of muscle. “All you little holes are so tight for your daddy. Just for me, huh?” 
You nod and open your mouth to speak but he starts pushing a finger in you and all the comes out is a wanton cry. 
“Jesus Christ” He curses when you tighten even more around him, absolutely obsessed with how your body reacts to his touch. 
You try your best to stay still as he keeps pushing his finger in slowly. But you keep clenching around his cock, and he keeps twitching in reaction creating a circular kindling effect that drives you crazy. 
“Can’t daddy” you whimper pathetically, breath fanning over his neck, hot and humid. 
“But you are, babygirl” Joel reassures, pushing his finger all the way inside of you, groaning at all the different ways your squeezing him. “Takin’ me so well sweetie god you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” 
You moan again, the sound going straight to Joel’s ear and travelling down his spine as a hot tingle. You give an experimental roll of your hips, testing him and seeing what he’s willing to let you do. And he doesn’t stop you. 
With his finger buried in your ass and his cock stuffed in your leaking cunt, you start gently rolling your hips, gasping at the new sensations with each movement. Joel’s chest heaves with each breath as you slowly build up speed against him.
It doesn’t take long at all for you to find the perfect angle that lets you grind your clit down against the patch of hair at the base of his cock. It’s too fucking much to handle and the pool of molten liquid in your abdomen is quickly growing as you hurtle towards your release. 
“Oh, daddy please” you whine desperately between loud moans. 
“What do you need, angel?” Joel asks like he doesn’t already know. “Tell me. Tell daddy what you need.” 
You gulp for air, but you still can’t get a good breath. You’re so full of him. Every square inch of your skin is on fire now, every touch feels so good, his scent is filling your head and you can’t think straight. 
“Need – fuck daddy! – I need to cum, I’m gonna cum please let me daddy please” you babble, now clawing at his shoulders. 
“Shh baby it’s okay. You’ve been so good for me, lemme feel you cum all over my cock, sweet girl.” 
You moan in relief and start to allow the pleasure to take over your body. Joel watches in amazement as you fall apart on top of him when he barely even had to move a muscle. You keep your face buried in his neck and Joel groans at the sounds your making so close to his ear. You start trembling on top of him as your moans grow louder and louder, letting him know you’re seconds away from release. He keeps his finger inside of you and wraps his other arm around your waist, holding you flush against his body. 
“Lift up a bit, baby” Joel grunts into your hair. 
You barely hear him, but the last working part of your brain process his words and your body automatically complies. You press into your knees and your thighs shake as you lift yourself up off of him just slightly.  
The next second, Joel slams his hips up into yours, chasing after your tight, wet heat, already needing to be buried inside of you again. You scream as he pounds into you, his pace brutal and unwavering. Liquid heat surges through your veins and your hypersensitive walls grip him like a vice as the hot coil in your abdomen starts to unravel. 
Joel doesn’t stop as you start to cum. If anything, he speeds up. He punches up into your g-spot with each thrust over and over and over again, desperate to draw out your orgasm for as long as possible. More hot slick starts gushing out of you around him and Joel can’t believe how drenched you are right now. 
“There you go babygirl. Soak daddy’s dick” Joel rasps, his voice cracking as he starts to chase his own orgasm. 
The way he can feel himself move inside you, just a thin wall separating his cock and finger combined with the feeling of you sinking your teeth into his neck is making him absolutely feral. He’s only seconds behind you. He’s been just as affected, just as turned on as you this whole time. He’s just a lot better at hiding it. 
“You want daddy’s cum, angel?”  Joel pants, his eyes rolling back when you tangle your finger in the curls at the base of the neck and pull. 
You nod fervently and choke out “Yes, daddy! Please, want it inside” between long, loud moans. 
“M’gonna fill you up, sweet girl. Have so much for you. Just for you, baby.” 
You cry out at Joel’s promise and tug even harder at his hair and suck at the skin between your teeth. That’s all it takes for him to break. His fingertips dig into your ribs, and he pulls you down on top of him then empties himself inside you, unloading ropes and ropes of hot cum into your awaiting pussy. He holds you impossibly close and gives your moans a run for their money with the sounds he makes. 
“Baby, baby jesus fuck you’re so good” Joel huffs as you continue to move your hips, riding out and extending both of your orgasms for as long as possible. 
You’re both completely unaware of how much time passes as the two of you sit there, panting and trying to catch your breaths. Joel moves his hand from your waist to your hair, gently stroking and grunting softly as you keep spasming around him as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through your body. He brushes the hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear so he can get a good look at your face, your eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together and your mouth hanging open as small whimpers tumble past your lips. 
“You look so pretty all fucked out like this, baby” Joel murmurs. 
You slowly open your eyes and look up at him with hooded lids. He gives you a soft smile that heats you from the inside out and fills your heart with a warm fuzzy feeling. You give him one in return, the corners of your lips curling up into a crooked grin. 
“Thank you, daddy” you mumble, your voice rough and ruined. 
“Anything for you, sweet girl” Joel says quietly as he cards his fingers through your hair. “Anything.”  
He looks at you for a few more moments, wishing he could burn the image to the inside of his eyelids to look at forever. But the sound of the announcers on TV catch his attention and he flicks his eyes to the screen. 
He looks back at you with a wide, giddy smile. 
“Did we win?” you ask, your words slow and syrupy. 
“Sure did, angel” Joel says happily before leaning down to place a kiss to your temple. “You’re my good luck charm, baby. Think you need to do that for every game from now on”
You giggle and let your eyes slip close again, finally fully satisfied. 
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Thank you for reading!! please let me know if you liked it I need extra validation rn
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samwinchesterswifu · 28 days
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You Shook Me All Night Long (Dean Winchester x Reader) Smut
Bunker seasons era
Song Inspo: "You Shook Me All Night Long" by ACDC
Warnings: literally the whole thing is just smut lmfao
MINORS DNI
A/N: ive been having TERRIBLE writers block. I dunno how happy i am with this one, so PLEASE let me know if this good smutty shit yall, thnxs for your endless support <3
Word Count: 1103
Summary: He surprises her with coming home early...but that's not the only thing he surprises her with.
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The boys were away on a week long hunt. Since injuring her knee a few months ago during a Ghoul hunt, she’s decided to take a break from hunting to allow her body full time to heal. This allowed her a lot of time to make the Bunker a proper home for them. She would spend her weekends keep housing if the boys were still gone, then during the week she would spend time in the library cataloging or helping with research. Then, whenever Dean came home, she was hands on with focus. Her and Dean had been a thing for a little while. The stress of the job eventually breaking down the tough looking hunter asking her to be his life partner. She had happily agreed. There was no real label on their relationship, just two people who understood each other more than any other human.
It was a Sunday morning. Dean had called her the night before, informing her that they would probably be home Sunday night, or possibly into Monday. She was excited to see Dean. Since taking her leave, Dean coming home from these longer hunts added an extra excitement to their relationship. But knowing he won’t be home until as late as tomorrow, she treated it like any other Sunday.
Dressed in little shorts, a cute tank top that showed off her features she began her cleaning routine. Starting in the war room, making her way through the kitchen and then finally to the library. Music blasted throughout the speaker system of the bunker. Charlie had helped set her up with a Bluetooth connection to the old raggedy speakers one weekend while the boys were gone and they had a girls date. It was her little incentive to stay motivated.
One of her favorite 80’s song began on a new rotation of shuffle and she began swagging her hips to the beat of the song while spraying cleaner on the library tables, bending over to get all the way across. She was so distracted by the beat that she didn’t even hear the bunker door open. Dean had arrived home early as a surprise. Dancing around the tables, doing small spins or dance moves, Dean just admired her from a distance. He never got to see her like this. He dropped his bag down and with a thud she turned around to see him. Completely flustered that she was caught. The two of them just starred, Dean was practically undressing her with his eye making her squirm under his gaze.
Neither of them said anything as Dean strode towards her. Grabbing onto her hips, and pulling her tight to his chest. Breathing in the cheap cologne Dean always loved to wear, practically getting drunk off his sent alone. A grin creeps on Dean’s face and he sways the two to the beat. Eyes were locked on one another as he gave her a little spin before bringing her back into sway. A deep blush forms across her cheeks. She hardly ever saw Dean this way, usually this was after a good hunt and no one got hurt. Towards the end of the song, Dean crashes his lips to hers. This was a new hunger she hasn’t experienced. Sure, they’ve had make-up sex, ‘I thought I lost you back there’ sex, and so forth. But this was different, it was ravenous. Dean’s kisses grew heavier, teeth clashing as he drove his hands all over her curves.
At this point, her hips were pinned against one of the library tables. Dean broke away from her lips, kissing along her cheek and down towards the nape of her neck. Nibbling away at different spots along her collar bone. Small mewls and moans of pleasure leave her lips, earning a tighter grip of his hands on her. Dean leans down for a brief moment, hoisting her up by her legs to sit her on the table. He gently pushes her shoulders back on the hardwood, and continues to trail kisses down her clothed body. As he gets closer to her stomach, Dean shifts to be on his knees. Which was surprising. He places tiny kisses across her hips as he uses his hands to push open her legs. Dean yanks off her shorts underwear in a swift movement. Both pieces coming off together. This man was starving for her.
“Fuck,” Dean whispers looking at her pussy. His eyes drift back up to hers as he licked his lips.
In a split second, Dean was diving in. Lapping away at her folds like it was the most delectable fruit Dean has ever tasted in his time on earth. An orgasm was ripping through her body with moments. She tugs on his hair as he continues to coach her through the orgasm. But Dean wasn’t done, he was still at it. Moans echoed through the library and she felt so unholy. This is where men of generations came to learn about the monsters of her world, and yet her she was, bare ass on the same table as her man ate her out alive.
Another orgasm was on the horizon, and like the quick man that Dean Winchester is, two of his broad fingers are inserted into her folds. A shocked and rattled moan escapes her at the shock of surprise and pleasure. His fingers are going in and out like a jack rabbit. Dean occasionally curling them to reach her g-spot.
“Come on baby,” Dean whispers from his spot. This man was fucking edging her on.
Another finger inserted.
“If you want my cock, I’ll need another one from you,” his voice was demanding. And she was prepared to meet those demands.
His attack on her just sped up more, and more. While simultaneously sucking on her clit. But finally, she was close.
“Fuck, Dean,” she gasps. Tugging again at his strands.
“Don’t..stop,” breathing was labored and felt like she was about to see stars. She was there…she was right there…
Then there was nothing. The area Dean was just in was cold. Looking up in utter confusion, she sees her man pulled away. His chin shining with her cum and a shit eating grin plaster on his damn face.
She stutters.
“Y-you, you cant do that, please Dean.” The unpleasant feeling of an orgasm left unfinished pulsated through her.
“I’m gunna need you to last all day sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet,” He says as he gets up from his position.
Giving her a wink, he simply walks away leaving her baffled.
What the hell am I getting myself into.
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I AM SO TIRED OF PEOPLE ASSOCIATING ALASTOR WITH ONLY JAMBALAYA SO HERE ARE OTHER CREOLE DISHES YOU HEATHENS
Fanfiction and Comic creators, this is for you especially.
Crawfish Étouffée
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This beautiful dish was invented in Breaux Bridge Louisiana, where our favourite radio star is from! Although it's invention is attributed the Herbet Hotel in the 1950s -after Alastors death- it is a classic.
Crawfish Étouffée has a sauce typically made from a blonde roux with that classic cajun seasoning. It contains the Holy Trinity of cajun cooking too: bell peppers, onions and celery. The main meat of this dish is crawfish tails and it is usually served with carbs like cornbread, cajun rice or vegetables such as green beans and potato salad.
It is chock full of flavour, and a filling inexpensive dish for low income families - which I believe Alastor is from.
Some alternatives to the crawfish are chicken and shrimp.
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The difference between Étouffée and Gumbo.
These two often get mixed up, and I understand, they're both classic Bayou dishes. Here's how to differentiate them.
Texture: Both dishes use shrimp, chicken, or crawfish tail broth. BUT Jumbo has a thicker consistency, it's made from a dark roux and it tends to use more liquid to remain stew-like.
Flavour: Gumbo and Étouffée both use Cajun seasoning, but due to Étouffées blonde roux, it has a lighter, sweeter taste than the darker, fullness of flavour in Gumbo.
Meat: Gumbo uses a variety of meats at the same time (often shrimp and sausage are key components), as mentioned in the alternatives above, Étouffée typically does not.
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2. Red Beans and Rice
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We're on a roll guys! This is another dish from Louisiana! Although, it is specifically associated with New Orleans, where Alastor hosted his radio show. It has a fascinating history, partly due to it's African and French/Spanish routes - But it was also a struggle meal during the Great Depression. It was originally a Creole, not Cajun dish.
(Note: Red Beans and Kidney Beans are different legumes)
This dish also contains the Holy Trinity, as well as bay leaves, oregano, cayenne pepper, garlic powder and more. Its protein comes from Andouille sausages, but like Gumbo, a variety of meats are used. If you want Alastor to be traditional about it, he should make it on a Monday incorporating the left over ham bones from Sunday dinner. It is also complimented with long grain white rice and green beans, amongst many other things.
Considering Alastor witnessed the Stock Market Crash of 1929 -which led to the Great Depression - There is no way he hasn't come across this dish before.
3. Creole Bread Pudding
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The queen of Creole Dessert has arrived. Can you guess where she's from? DING-DING-DING! That's right! New Orleans Louisiana baby! Recipes of this treat have been recorded since 1885, so it suffices to say she's a classic.
Like most bread puddings, it is made by combining stale bread (preferably French), beaten eggs and milk. However, this variation often has an incredible amount of vanilla extract. What it will be complimented with varies from person to person. Some examples are: Whipped meringue and whisky, raisins and apple, or walnuts and butter.
Although not as popular in the modern day, I like to imagine this is something Mimzy, Rosie and Alastor might share together on a day out.
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There you go! I hope you enjoyed this - but more importantly I hope this helps people create a more diverse version of those cosy Alastor cooking scenes that I love.
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓
+ itoshi rin x f!reader | drabble | content: fluff, established relationship
notes: ahem don’t mind me just …. casually loving rin :’) inspired off this post i saw on tiktok !!
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sometimes, you’re annoyed.
no, not by your boyfriend, although he refuses to cuddle you to sleep. but by his tendencies to set more than one alarm. you love rin, an abnormally large amount.
but his alarms will be the death of you.
“rin, i love you but your alarms are killing me.”
he stares at you from where he stands in the kitchen, an innocence you can only describe as adorable (but he’d kill you). today’s a saturday and it’s a lazy day in, with soccer training canceled due to the storm. but still, somehow, your boyfriend’s alarm still blared this morning. and usually you’re a heavy sleeper, but coupled with the thunder, you were unfortunately woken up at 5.30am.
rin’s making breakfast; ochazuke. using your recipe too because he likes it that way.
“i know you still exercise and all but do you really have to set two alarms?” because you have no problem ignoring that first one. that second one though, always gets to you.
rin only shrugs it off, putting his attention back on his food. “maybe i’ll set it softer next time.”
“or maybe just set one?” you try convincing him, sauntering over and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “it’s not like you have trouble waking up.”
because he really doesn’t. he hasn’t missed an alarm since you first got together with him over a year ago. rin’s one of the most punctual people you know. he really doesn’t need that extra alarm.
but you fail at convincing him, because apparently on monday morning (sundays are the only breaks from his alarm that you can get), at 5.25am, his first alarm blares, and if not for the fact that you’d watched a horror movie with him last night (which only spell nightmares for you—but then again, you can never refuse rin), you’d probably still be sound asleep.
today though, you’re woken up almost instantaneously, and you decide to stay quiet, like you’re asleep. just to see what your boyfriend does for that five minutes and why he needs another alarm.
you expect him to groan and fall back asleep, like maybe he needs five minutes to himself. but then you have to do your best not to freeze up when you realise that his arms fall around you, your boyfriend nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.
the realisation hits you like a gentle rain in the middle of summer. this is what rin’s doing for those five minutes before his actual alarm? he’s been hugging you everyday, right before he starts his day. he’s been hugging you every morning before he wakes up for real, before he leaves for training, before every mundane day.
you grin to yourself, feeling the warmth spread across your chest and your face. you think you love rin an abnormally large amount. but now you know that it’s the same for him as well.
“stop smiling to yourself, stupid,” rin mumbles, burrowing his face further into your neck, embarrassed now that you know what he’s been up to.
you giggle. “i love you, rin.”
“i love you, stupid.”
“lots and lots?”
“okay now shut up before i kick you off the bed.”
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cixteenyne · 3 months
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I didn't know you were back! Welcome!
One question, will you ever follow that My Hero Academia guys series?
Please don't leave again, your writing is incredible!
Monday - Izukus’ Alone Time..
heyyy ahaaa what the flip guys it’s been a while and yes I’m back and I’ll try not to leave!! Idk I sleep a lot so I just don’t be doin shit. ANYWAYSSS onto the warnings girlypopss
(Warning(s): Vulgar language, Smut- Duh. Fem aligned, Sleepy Sex. Tired Izu. Kind of somno if you go up your ass and around the corner but that’s just what I heard
You can find Sunday here! Enjoy!
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Izuku is energetic. That’s no secret, always so eager to overdo it and prove himself. That can take a toll on anyone, overdoing it that much. Especially on a Monday of all days.
Sometimes you’d see him walking through the door, exhausted, sweat covering him like it belonged there. Maybe it did.
His eyes usually so wide in the morning, worn and half lidded with little energy, yet every drop of accomplishment by sundown. The warm mixed colors giving them a shine that just makes them seem brighter.
You really could relate to him, after Shotou and Katsuki ran you dry the other day, you didn’t look nearly as bad as Izuku after a particularly long training day, but you sure felt like it, just a little more happy about it. You’d jump at a chance to do it again.
Not to say izuku didn’t enjoy the time he spent getting stronger to protect those he loves, to protect you and the others.
It was his lifestyle and he loved every bit of the life he was lucky enough to live.
So to say he was more pent up than usual with this new sudden change of training schedule, would be an understatement.
He kept his eyes on the screen. The only source of light being the soft glow it gave off onto his own view. Well, he tried to keep his eyes open and on the screen, but it really was difficult. A warm shower will do that to you.
The couch sinking pulled his head from sleep, turning his attention and what was left of it- to the person.
To you. Oh, warm you. You who were so sweet as to usher him from the door, and treat his wounds with what little first aid you knew. Which wasn’t much, but it did help. Honest. Sure saved his ass a visit and a scolding from Recovery Girl.
“Izuku? You can sleep y’know? I can see your eyes closing..”
So perceptive. Though it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. He just looked at you. Just looking. And leaning.
Leaning?
Izuku couldn’t help scooching closer to your warmth. He was a little more awake now, but he was still so sluggish. Wrapping his body around you with everything he had, which was much more than you were expecting. Falling onto you with little grace.
He keeps his head in the crook of your neck, his lips moving against it, but not quite doing anything. A kiss here, just barely there. A ghost of his warm breath. He was tired- really, but he wouldn’t pass you up.
His hands wandering and searching everywhere you let him. Tugging that down, moving this to the side. Pushing this up. Opening his mouth and laying it on whatever he could.
He took particular interest in your breasts, pushing your shirt up and sliding his tongue on them, closing his lips around them.
Closing his eyes and indulging in whatever he could take. Your moans and keens were perfect, they were going to put him to sleep, really. He needed more.
He pulled off you, holding himself up suddenly.
“m’sorry baby.. izu’s sorry.. ‘k doll? He’s sorry”
Pushing you legs apart with his own, he puts his chest to yours, laying down with a huff of relaxation. Kept mumbling various “m’sorry”s and how ‘izu’s so tired.’
Though he seems pretty eager in the way he fished his cock out of his plaid pants and pushed your panties wherever they wouldn’t be in the way. He terrible of him, doing this so late at night! He must be thinking that.
His mumbling is still on, but basically unintelligible as he whines and pushes himself in. Thrusting shallowly into you.
The couches’ leather crunches underneath you both as his thrusts meet full. Still just as slow.
His whole body basically covering you. deliberately, you think. And he can’t shut up for the life of him, his mumbling mixed with his moans and pleas that you hear mixed in make your pussy tighten.
His cock hits deep and drags right back out. His sleep worn state slugging his motions.
“P..please, fuck…- please. Please. M’sorry, j’s so tired baby..”
He whined out every word. Izuku may say he’s sorry, but he knows damn well he isn’t.
He knows.
“Zu’s gonna make it- fuck..! Make it.. all up.. to you.”
Just rambling and mumbling and whines mixed with drool and drowsiness.
He’s just so tired. And he wants you.
You can feel his cock twitch inside of you, the movement of his hips becoming snappy. Jerky and even more uncoordinated. Whining and heaving about how he’s gonna cum.
“Gonna cum. G-! Ah..! Gonna.. c-uh!”
His hips stutter as string, after rope, of too warm seed slips from his tip. He whines as he empties himself into you. So needy he is, he’s always so whiney when he’s tired. More greedy. Even someone like him can be greedy. So cute.
With no grace and all exhaustion, he drops himself. All of his weight and mass onto you. Without warning, making you huff at the impact. He doesn’t bother to pull out.
You look down at him, his head in your neck. His forest of dark green hair right in your face.
“Y’feel better?”
A question the barely conscious Izu can’t answer. Well, sorta.
“Mm..” it was all he could offer.
Good enough.
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(Ahaaa hey bbg don’t steal my stuffsss ofc u can reblog coochie cakes)
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nolita-fairytale · 11 months
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Meeting Pastry Chef Luca from The Bear For the First Time Headcanon
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a/n: inspired by @superhoeva, i thought i'd take a crack at writing a chef luca headcanon because we're all dying rn for will poulter as a sticker-sleeve tattooed chef. would anyone read this as a fic?? let me know.
edit: (7/3/23) i turned this into a fic called 'burn your life down.' feel free to read if you'd like!
you own a small restaurant in copenhagen. it's only been open for a year (this could potentially change if i write said fic). it's nothing fancy, but the food has soul. the food is an extension of yourself -- it tells the story of you.
inspired by noma, you grow some of your own produce outside of the restaurant in raised garden beds.
you begin to notice (as it's an open kitchen) and a smaller spot, that a tall, blonde brit has become one of your regulars. he comes in the same day each week at the same time. he always looks tired, like he's unwinding from a long day's worth of hard work, but he's always kind to your staff, and he has a quiet, powerful confidence to him.
week after week, he's there. he always orders one dish and one glass of wine, before paying the bill and leaving for the evening without a word.
your staff speculate about him: who is he, what must he do, that he's so handsome that he must have a partner. you don't pay much attention to the gossip, but it's hard not to notice that it's become part of his routine.
he always orders something different -- eager to try any new kind of special that you have on the menu that day.
it's not till one slower night of service that you finally meet him. you're short staffed that night and so you end up running plates out to tables -- finding it a great opportunity to connect more with your diners on a personal level. it's a very american hospitality concept, but since you have the time, you figure, why not?
he comes in at his usual time on sunday evening and you're curious to learn more about your weekly diner. you introduce yourself after walking his plate out and he's surprised that it's you who's serving him this evening.
"you're the chef?" he asks. "yes." "i can't think of the last time i saw a head chef work front of house..." he shakes his head in disbelief. "we're a little short staffed tonight." he seems impressed, raising his glass of wine to you. "cheers."
at the end of dinner service, one of your servers hands you a handwritten note that luca's left for you, inviting you to the restaurant he works at. the note reads: "thank you for all of the great meals. i'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it," followed by a time, a date for tomorrow, and an address.
as soon as you realize which restaurant it is (much fancier, michelin starred, held in high regard) you only panic a little, but decide to go anyways. since both of your restaurants are closed on monday, you're even more nervous about the fact that you're meeting him at his tonight, while it's closed, considering you've barely had a conversation with him and how intimidating of a reputation the restaurant has.
he greets you at the door, right on time, and he leads you past the closed dining room, back to the kitchen where he's created a few dishes for you to try: two from his regular menu and one inspired by a dish of yours he's had.
"all of this... you did all of this for me... why?" you muster up the courage to ask. "your food is inspired and i don't think i've had something this inspired in a long time. and as chefs, this is what we do. we feed each other." and it's the beginning of, you're not quite sure what, but whatever it is, you're glad he walked into your restaurant however many weeks ago.
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wheresarizona · 3 months
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Learning to Live Part 30
summary: Sunday—it’s Javier’s 40th birthday, and you have some sexy surprises planned for when you get home from dinner. Monday—you’re back at work after your lovely vacation, and it’s time to bite the bullet and tell your disapproving family that you’re getting married. You can probably guess how well that goes over…
rating: E (18+! A good chunk of this is about birthday sex. No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (around ten years), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (m & f receiving), 69, face sitting, butt plugs (f), anal play (f receiving), double penetration, breeding kink, lingerie, nude photos, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, waxing poetic about Javier’s dick, getting KO’d from orgasms, banter, domestic fluff, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, death of a parent/grief, dysfunctional family, arguing, period typical sexism, spoiling Javier for his birthday, nurse stories (humorous), Javier being the little spoon, discussion about eating habits, Javier making you post-sex food, a special guest makes an appearance)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (reader is a nurse with no physical descriptions)
word count: 16.8k (Why am I like this?)
a/n: This chapter was supposed to be solely about birthday sex, but something happened, I’m not sure what, and somehow there’s a lot of plot in it now? I apologize. I am at the mercy of the characters. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul, for betaing! You’re incredible.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist
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There was a game Javier liked to play when you went out to eat with people and were seated next to one another. It was kind of like Chicken, where two cars drive toward each other, and one of them has to swerve, or else they’ll crash—basically, it was a test to see how ballsy you were and how much of a risk you were willing to take to come out as the victor. In Javi’s version, it involved his hand under the table on your knee that would slowly creep up your thigh and under your dress, if you were wearing one, or along your pant-covered leg to try and make it to his goal nestled between your thighs—it was up to you to determine how far he’d get. Were you going to chicken out and stop his movements? Or were you going to be ballsy and let him get to the finish line? Honestly, it depended on how you were feeling and who you were with because it was really distracting when he rubbed your pussy in the middle of trying to have a conversation with someone. Still, the game was a lot of fun, and sometimes you liked to mess with him by letting him get almost all the way to his prize before you denied him, just to keep him on his toes.
Another thing was that there wasn’t always one round. Sometimes, he’d wait a bit and try his luck, again and again, to see how many attempts it’d take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of your Tootsie Pop—unless you told him to stop, then his hand would make itself at home, holding your thigh.
Tonight was Javi's 40th birthday, and you'd gone out to dinner with his father. Usually, on such a special day—and the fact you were always horny for him—you'd allow his palm to reach its destination. This evening, however, you had stopped all of his attempts and wouldn't let him get very far since you didn't want to ruin the surprise that was hiding under your dress—and your fiancé was very, very curious about what your undergarment situation was, getting to the point you kept his hand still between your closed thighs until it was time to leave.
The meal and catching up with Chucho had been wonderful—hanging out with your soon-to-be father-in-law was always a great time.
On the morning that you called the older man to tell him about your engagement, you laughed when he said he'd have something put in writing about his promises that he'd love you both living with him and wouldn't mind if there was a newborn there, too. You were well aware of his eagerness to have grandchildren and bet Javi twenty dollars his dad was going to show up today with legal documents on the matter, and you'd been right—he had a large manila envelope with an agreement he had his lawyer put together inside for you. Once dinner was done, you found out that wasn't all he brought; Chucho presented Javi with a Tupperware container filled with a big slice of tres leches cake his tía María made from his mother’s recipe. As he ate, his dad quietly serenaded him with a song called “Las Mañanitas,” much to his chagrin, the first part being:
“Estas son las mañanitas, que cantaba el Rey David, (This is the morning song that King David sang), Hoy por ser día de tu santo, te las cantamos a ti, (Because today is your saint’s day, we’re singing it for you), Despierta, mi Javi, despierta, mira que ya amaneció, (Wake up, mi Javi, wake up, look it is already dawn), Ya los pajarillos cantan, la luna ya se metió, (The birds are already singing, and the moon has set).”
There was a promise between the three of you that the restaurant staff wouldn’t be alerted that it was Javier’s birthday in order to avoid the employees bringing attention to him and singing; he didn’t, however, put any restrictions on his father or you singing to him, and Chucho was happily exploiting that loophole while his son grumpily devoured his cake he shared with you.
Javi wasn’t actually annoyed with his dad—he had the Tupperware practically licked clean by the time you were ready to go, and before you left, he gave his dad a big hug and whispered his thanks for having the cake made since it was something his mother always baked for their birthdays.
The big 4-0 was a milestone that usually involved a celebration, but your fiancé had declined his father and three tías offers to throw him a party and told everyone he didn’t want any gifts—he was determined not to make it a big deal, and only desired to have dinner with you and Chucho; the tres leches cake was a wonderful surprise, and definitely appreciated, though.
All of that brings you to where you were currently—sitting beside Javi on the bench seat of his truck as he drove you home. He’d pulled up your dress to bare your knee, resting his hand on it, and you were wondering when he would give his game another go; you knew him and that there was no way he’d be able to resist trying again, now that you were alone.
"Did you enjoy your birthday?" you asked, doing your best to keep your squirming to a minimum as you tried to find a comfortable position.
"Yeah," he answered, glancing at you with a smile. "I loved spending the day with you, seeing my mom—" You stopped by the cemetery on your way to dinner to tell her about your engagement. "—and going to dinner with Pop. Today was nice."
You hugged his arm. "I'm happy you had a good day, even though a certain someone—" Lorraine. "—tried to ruin it. Do you think she'll listen and leave us alone?" There'd been an altercation with her on your walk to the restaurant, and Javi finally had his chance to give her a piece of his mind and threaten her and her family with restraining orders if they didn't stop bothering you.
His eyes were back on the road, a frown replacing his smile.
"Maybe? She's been dead set on making my life difficult since I left her, and I don't know if she'll be able to give up."
"Guess we'll just have to see." A change in subject was needed. "Sooo, do you have any requests for tonight?"
His fingers stroked the inside of your knee.
"What do you mean?"
He started slowly moving his hand along your thigh, your palm resting on his jean-covered leg.
"You know exactly what I mean. It's your birthday, so you get anything you want."
He turned his head your way for a few seconds.
“I thought you had tonight planned.”
"I do." You nodded. "But you're the birthday boy, and I wanna make sure to include any specific desires you may have for this evening."
His focus went to what was in front of him, his fingers skating up your inner thigh and under your dress.
"Hmmm," he hummed. "I know you don't want to spoil tonight, but will I get to eat your pussy?"
"If you want to, sure."
"Are you gonna suck my dick?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Will I get to come inside you?"
There was a pause for a moment as you figured out how to respond. "...yes?"
He looked over at you with a curious expression. "That's... interesting. With how you answered, I'll be coming inside you, but not where I imagined…"
You frowned. "Javier, it is your birthday, and I won't have you ruining my surprises by you going all Detective Peña on me." To end the sentence, you squeezed your thighs shut to trap his hand and keep it from moving any further.
Your reaction made him pout and turn his attention back to the road.
"Fine," he said. "I won't think about it." He sighed. "I know you're not wearing panties. I won't be ruining any surprises if you let me touch you."
"Sure, but I want you to wait until we get home so you can undress me."
"Okay."
You rubbed his arm with your free hand. "Patience, baby—you're gonna have a great time."
His eyes met yours, and he smiled. "I know, mi amor (my love), and I'm fucking excited." He moved his hand out from between your legs to grab your smaller one on his thigh, pressing your palm against where he was half-hard beneath his jeans.
"You are excited,” you purred, rubbing him over his pants. “Better get you nice and hard before we get home.”
“With what I’m hoping will happen tonight? That won’t be an issue, Cielito.”
Once you arrived at your shared apartment, you hung up the jean jacket you were wearing, setting your purse onto the console table near the front door, Javi emptying his pockets into the large bowl on top of it. Both of you kicked off your shoes, and your fiancé laid his folded sports coat over the back of the couch before he was on you, his lips hungrily colliding with yours in a searing kiss—one of his arms went around you to pull you flush against him, his other hand cradling the back of your head, making you moan when he eagerly licked into your mouth.
His kisses were sweet from the cake, tasting it on his tongue, arousal burning hot in your abdomen. He had your toes curling and skin vibrating, wanting him so bad, and he seemed to want you just as much when he turned and walked you toward your room with your lips fused together.
Anticipation was swelling inside you, butterflies going wild in your tummy at hoping Javi really did enjoy what you had in store for him.
As your feet moved, your hands worked open the buttons on his shirt, rubbing your palms up the warm skin of his torso once it was bared, feeling the soft give of his belly to his muscular chest—moving higher along his neck, cupping his cheeks, then pressing your fingers into his soft hair.
The moment you stepped into your room, he unzipped the back of your dress and moved you a little further inside to have you at the end of your big, king-sized bed. Javi broke the kiss, shrugging off his shirt that fell to the floor, his hungry gaze focusing on your chest—he was careful when he took the red, satiny shoulder straps into his hands, and pulled the dress down and off your arms, revealing your bosom, and letting gravity take the rest of it to the ground, where it pooled around your feet.
“Fuck,” he breathed. Javi was unable to stop himself; it was as if there was some kind of magnetic pull that had his hand reaching to palm your lace-covered breast. His eyes had darkened, the front of his jeans bulging where he was straining against the zipper. "This is what you've been hiding all night?" he asked, his free palm massaging your other tit.
His reaction made you feel good about your choice of lingerie.
The red teddy covered most of your breasts and down your ribs in sheer lace with laces crisscrossing from one side to the other on the front and back to keep the pieces together; the best part about it, and what you knew was Javi’s favorite part, was the fact nothing was covering your crotch or ass—it was put on like a one-piece swimsuit, your legs going through two thin straps, with the rest of the bottom completely bare.
There was a similar teddy you owned in a pretty plum color that covered more of your skin in lace.
"Yes," you answered. "Do you like it?"
His gaze met yours, and he stepped into your space, his big hands going around to grab your bare backside.
He was smirking with his eyebrow raised. "Do I like it?" he rasped. Javi squeezed your ass. "You know I fucking love it, mi amor (my love)." His lips met yours, kissing you quickly before he ended it with a playful nip to your bottom lip, pulling his head back to look at you. "You're so fucking sexy—Christ, I want you so fucking bad."
Your hands slid up his chest to caress his cheeks, smiling at him.
"I have another surprise for you..." you said.
His eyes rounded. "There's more?" he asked.
You booped him on the nose with your finger. "Yep," you answered. "You're getting spoiled tonight."
"You don't need to spoil me."
"Um, yes, I do. It's your special day. Plus, you spoiled me on my birthday by letting me tie you up and edge you—this is me making sure your night is just as wonderful." You poked him over his pec.
He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles as he smiled. "Happy fucking birthday to me."
"Yes, now, pants off, mister,” you ordered. “I don't want you coming in them." The sentence was punctuated with a wink.
What you said made him chuckle. "Yes, ma'am."
Stepping back from him, his hands went to the front of his jeans to quickly get them off. His belt clinked as he worked it open, hearing the teeth separate when he undid his zipper, the pants getting shoved down his legs, Javi having to do the awkward dance of lifting each foot to tug them off, along with his socks.
Once he was completely naked, he closed the distance between you, his big palms holding your face when he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you hard. You snaked your hand down into the tight space your bodies had created to grab his throbbing cock, the skin velvety soft and hot to the touch, making him moan into the kiss. His hips bucked forward in your grip while you slowly pumped him. His hand massaged your breast and tweaked your nipple through the lace, his other palm tracing along your jawbone, the shell of your ear, and down to your neck, he gently held as you kissed, leaving a trail of fire under your skin.
"Let me show you your surprise," you murmured against his lips.
"'Mmkay," he said and didn't stop kissing you.
It was up to you to break away from him, Javi chasing your mouth when you did, making you grin and press your hand to his chest to softly push him back—his eyes were closed, his lips turned up in a smile, looking so unbelievably happy.
"Adorable," you whispered.
His chest was slightly heaving from his heavy breaths, his lips red and shining from saliva.
"Open those pretty brown eyes, babe,” you told him. “It’s time for your surprise." They blinked open, and he grabbed your waist.
"What is it?" he asked, his head dipping to kiss along the column of your throat. You took one of his hands and slid it behind you over your ass to between your cheeks.
His breath caught in his throat, his face popping up to meet your eyes with a look of surprise.
“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “Is that…?”
His reaction made you grin even bigger. “A very cute butt plug? Yes, it is.”
The plug was made out of smooth pink-colored glass with a tapered tip and bulbous body, the slender neck making it easy for your tight muscles to wrap around it and hold it in place, the flared base covering your hole shaped into a daisy flower.
As you said, it was very cute and filled you nicely—any time you moved, it had a tingle dancing up your spine, fueling the arousal sparking in your tummy.
His fingers were mapping out the flower, gliding over the petals, his gaze locking onto yours, seeing his cheeks had a lovely pink tint.
"Does this mean what I think it means…?" he asked with hope gleaming in those big, gorgeous brown eyes of his.
"That you can fuck my ass? Yes." You nodded. "I figured the toy would save us some time stretching me out."
He looked beyond delighted. "I am so fucking hard right now—how long have you been wearing it?"
"Since I excused myself at dinner to use the ladies' room—spoiler, I was in there getting this inside me; I brought lube and everything."
He was smiling. "My dirty fucking girl." His hand, not on your ass, came up to cup your cheek. "You kept adjusting in your seat when you got back, I thought you were horny—it's why I kept trying to touch your pussy—confused the fuck out of me that you wouldn't let me."
"I didn't want you to discover the lingerie or accidentally feel the plug."
"I get that now—can I see it?"
"Of course." You kissed him quickly and took a few steps to crawl up onto the bed, your hands and knees sinking into the mattress as you got onto all fours to present your ass to him. Seconds later, his warm palms were grabbing your asscheeks, spreading them.
You looked over your shoulder, and his eyes were glued to your backside.
"It’s so fucking pretty," he mused, rubbing a thumb over the base. “Can I take a picture?”
“Need it for your spank bank collection?”
In his bedside table was a stack of your nude Polaroids he liked to jack off to when the need very rarely arose.
His gaze lifted to yours with a smile. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then go for it.”
He walked away from you to grab the Polaroid camera off his dresser, returning seconds later. One of his hands pushed aside a plump cheek to give him a better visual.
“I fucking love this,” he murmured. The camera flashed, then whirred as it ejected the photo, Javi setting both out of the way on the bed. He was back behind you, staring at what he’d just photographed. “Am I allowed to touch it?” he asked.
"It's your birthday—you get to do whatever the fuck you want to me; mi cuerpo es tu cuerpo (my body is your body)."
He looked you in the eyes.
"I love you so much. I don't know how I got so fucking lucky—you're perfect."
"You're perfect."
His thumb circled around the edges of the glass flower, making you moan when he experimented by pulling it out a little and pushing it back in, loving the stretch—he did it again and again, and, again, Javi leaning his head down to spit on your pussy, the fingers of his other hand spreading it through your slit to rub your clit.
There was no way to stop your gasping moans as the toy was fucking in and out of your tight hole at the same time his hand strummed your bundle of sensitive nerves like a virtuoso—the sensations had your eyes rolling back in your head, the muscles in your abdomen starting to tighten as he built you up, higher and higher.
You had to face forward, your arms giving out, and crossing in front of you to rest your head on them—this was going to end quickly with how fucking good it felt, and you weren’t surprised when your orgasm hit, pleasure washing over you with a loud cry of his name.
Your breaths were ragged, sweat beginning to form on your skin.
“My good girl,” Javi purred. Both of his hands suddenly stopped, and a palm smacked the side of your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp.
"I need to eat your pussy," his voice was deeper and huskier.
Your entire body flattened onto the bed, and you turned on your side to look at him. The words came out hoarse, "How do you want me?"
"We can do anything I want...?" he asked. "Is there, uh, anything you're not in the mood for?"
Your eyebrow lifted. "Aside from my regular things I'm not into, nope—I'm down for whatever you want. What do you have in mind?"
He smirked. "You sitting on my face?"
You smiled. "Of course, you'd wanna drown in my pussy on your birthday."
"Yeah, and, uh—" He scratched at the back of his neck. "—would you wanna suck me off while I did it...?"
With how much you guys fucked, you were pretty sure Javi had put you in every position imaginable, but this request was new. Sitting on his face was something you’d done many times, but adding in having you blow him at the same time had your cunt clenching hard around nothing.
"Um, yes," you answered, nodding your head. "That is definitely something I want to do. Get your cute little ass on this bed and get comfy." You patted the bedding beside you. "I wanna take that perfect mustache for a ride."
Javi chuckled as he got onto the mattress and moved up it to flop over on his back, resting his head on a pillow he fluffed to get cozy. His hard dick was lying against his belly, the tip glossy with precum and dripping into the happy trail of hair on his stomach.
It took him a second to get settled before he tapped his chest, his eyes heavy-lidded and crookedly smiling.
“Get up here, baby—this mustache isn’t gonna ride itself.”
You snorted and started to crawl his way.
"Dork," you said.
"One you love."
"That I do.”
When you got to his side, you swung yourself around to face his feet, getting your leg over his torso to straddle him. Javi gripped your thighs and pulled you back to have your wet pussy hovering over his face, two of his fingers spreading open the lips of your sex.
"So fucking pretty," he murmured. He inhaled deeply. "You smell so good, too."
His cock was in front of you, and you held yourself up with one arm to wrap the fingers of your other hand around his length.
"In case I haven't said it lately," you started, languidly stroking him, "you literally have the prettiest dick I've ever seen.”
It was true.
He did have the prettiest dick you've ever laid your eyes on—at full mast, he was just shy of eight inches, cut, not too thin, but not too girthy, either; it was just the right size that when he was inside you, there was a nice stretch and perfect fullness. On the underside of his shaft, two throbbing veins were crawling up the sides and another along the top you liked to trace with your tongue; licking around the velvety soft ridge at the tip and over his frenulum was a surefire way to drive him crazy and get him to make absolutely delicious noises, and when he was coming, you could feel him get bigger and jerk in your mouth, hand, or cunt. If you were looking, you could see his balls draw up and his cock pulse as he unloaded spurts and spurts of his come.
It was truly a work of art.
“And being in a medical profession,” you continued, “I’ve seen a lot of dicks—95% I wish I hadn't seen."
He snorted. "Thank you—you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of pussy."
"The prettiest pussy?" You didn't mean to sound so surprised. "Really?"
"Oh yeah, the prettiest and the fucking tastiest."
It was evident Javi was done with the conversation by how he tugged your hips down onto his face and began feasting—which was an apt descriptor for how he eagerly dove in and the groans he made that sounded like he was eating the best meal of his entire life.
He licked through your wetness and over the lips of your cunt to get every last drop of your arousal he could find on his tongue; it felt so amazing you forgot for a minute you were supposed to be sucking him off. Gripping him at the base, you took him into your mouth, your head bobbing as you sucked down more and more of him until he was hitting the back of your throat.
His lips wrapped around your perky little clit, and when he sucked, it was like having lightning shock through you from the pleasure, your loud moan muffled by his cock in your mouth—it was hard to concentrate, and you put what little attention you had on the tip of him, licking along the sensitive ridge, pumping the rest of his spit-slick shaft with your palm that twitched, and loving how it made Javi whine.
He tasted salty from the steady leak of precum and clean, the scent of his skin smelling like the body wash he used in the shower. The lingering note coming through was Eucalyptus—woodsy, fresh, minty.
It was embarrassing that you were struggling to give him a basic blow job, doing your best not to get overwhelmed by his determined mouth trying to take you apart piece by piece as he licked, sucked, and tongue fucked you with abandon.
Fire was burning in your tummy and getting hotter with every second that passed. His dick was sliding along your palate to kiss the back of your throat, and you almost choked when he pulled and pushed on the toy in your ass.
It was skating the line of too much, how the plug was moving a little out to stretch your hole and being shoved back in to fill you again—thinking was hard, and you had to come off of him, unable to keep from moaning or stop your limbs from trembling.
“Oh, god,” you whined. “Oh, fuck.”
With how intense it felt, there was no way you could focus on sucking him off. What you could do was continue stroking his length, your hand gliding easily up and down while you were rocketing toward your end from him fucking you with the toy and sucking your clit. Your hips were moving of their own accord, rocking back to help fuck yourself and grind against his mouth.
Sixty-nining sounded fun in theory. The problem you ran into was your fiancé was relentless in wanting to make you come as hard as humanly possible, which made it practically impossible for you to do your part—it was too distracting. The pleasure had consumed all of your thoughts, and you could barely function.
The coil was winding inside you, getting tighter and tighter until it snapped, and euphoria was exploding from your center with a cry of his name, feeling your orgasm throughout your entire body from the tips of your fingers to your toes. Immediately, he shoved his tongue inside your fluttering hole to lick up your release, refusing to let a single drop of your come go to waste, and you could feel and hear his moans as you experienced the aftershocks of your climax.
With how hard you came, your hand paused on him, your upper body dropping, resting your head on his thigh to catch your breath and ride out your high.
Javi stopped behind you, lifting you from his face and inhaling deeply, taking big gasps of air.
"You okay?" his voice was rough.
"Mhmm," you hummed, speaking seeming too hard.
"You need a minute?"
"Mhmm."
"Let go of my dick."
You did as he asked and squeaked in surprise when he pushed you over to fall to the bed on your side.
"Sorry," he said. The mattress jostled, and pained grunts sounded from him, finding yourself seconds later getting wrapped up in his arms with your head on his chest.
“Did it feel good?” he asked and kissed your hair.
“Mhmm.”
“You come so quick with stuff in your ass.”
You smiled, finally finding your words. “You also come quick with stuff in your ass.”
“Yeah, I do—do you want me to fuck you while you’re wearing it?”
“Do you want to fuck me while I’m wearing it?”
“I wanna see how tight it makes you.”
“Uh-huh, and you wanna come in my pussy because you are on a mission to knock me up, and you would hate missing a chance.”
“That’s not all—it helps me last when I fuck your ass.”
“That’s true. It’s basically a medicinal cream pie. You know, earlier this year, they came out with a pill to help men keep it up, and we had a guy come into the ER who’d taken one—which, just so you’re aware,” you sidetracked, “if you have an erection lasting more than four hours, you need to seek medical help, and this dude was at almost six hours with a raging boner.”
He was frowning. “Did it go down on its own…?”
“Nope. A doctor had to use a syringe to remove some of the blood.”
"Jesus Christ, just thinking about that makes my dick hurt."
"Sorry." You rubbed your hand over his pec. "Let's talk about something else."
"Where'd you get the toy?"
A reasonable question, seeing as the closest sex shop was hours away in the big city.
"Okay, remember last month when you, me, Robyn, and Seb—" Sebastián, or Seb, was Robyn's boyfriend and Javi's cousin. "—spent that weekend in San Antonio, and you guys let us have our girls-only spa day while you and Seb went to see that movie about corrupt NSA agents that annoyed the fuck out of you because they got a lot of the government shit wrong, which you explained in excruciating detail to Seb at a bar afterward? Well, after the spa, she took me to a sex shop, and we bought some stuff."
"If you’re gonna make a movie about a government agency, you should do the fucking research,” he grumbled. His tone changed to intrigue, “What else did you buy…?"
"Some flavored lube and fluffy handcuffs. I was super picky about the kind of plug I wanted because you’d be surprised how many people come into the hospital with things stuck in their asses.” A memory made you snort. “Oh my god, so one time, this man came in with probably twenty or so of those bigger marbles? You know, the ones that are about double the size of a regular one? Lodged up his butt. When he was asked how they got stuck in there, he told everyone he was at home, standing on a step ladder, cleaning the cobwebs from the ceiling when he accidentally fell off and onto a container of them—this man stood by his story that instead of the marbles scattering everywhere when he fell on them, they magically made their way inside him.”
“What the fuck?” Javi said in disbelief. “He really thought people would believe he was cleaning without pants on, fell, and marbles just went up his ass? That makes zero fucking sense.”
“People come up with the stupidest lies when they’re embarrassed.”
“Like when you told the hotel staff we were checking out early because my nephew was viciously attacked by a duck?”
“You’re a jerk.” You pinched his nipple, making him flinch and laugh. “You’re just never going to let me live that down, huh?”
He grabbed your hand to kiss your palm. “No—you’re a terrible liar.”
“Rude.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed each of your fingers. “Did you buy anything else at the shop?”
“No, because I wanna go there with you to pick out things we’d enjoy."
He perked up, immediately responding, "We could go next weekend?"
"Shopping the weekend before Christmas? That would be a special kind of hell. Sorry, babe, we'll have to wait till next month." You got your hand free of him and patted his chest.
He let out a long, disappointed sigh. "Fine."
Things needed to get back to being horny, so you threw your leg over his waist and moved to sit on top of him with your knees bracketing his hips. His cock was wet from saliva and hard beneath you, and you leaned forward to kiss him, holding yourself up with your arms on either side of his head—this wasn't a peck on the lips or something chaste; this was a kiss that told him you wanted him. The kind of kiss that had his big hands grabbing onto your behind and groaning into your mouth. A kiss where things quickly heated up, and he was helping you grind your wet cunt over his dick, coating it in your slick. A kiss that turned into desperation for him to be inside you.
“Mmm, need lube,” you said into his lips. Sitting up, you leaned to get under the large, folded, black towel near the edge of the bed to grab the small bottle. You popped the cap, pouring a little bit into your palm before closing it and letting it fall onto the mattress beside you.
“With how huge your dick is,” you started as you lifted your hips up. “There’s no way in hell you’re gonna fit without some help.” Javi’s mouth fell open when you grabbed his cock under you, getting it nice and slick with the strokes of your hand.
His throat bobbed, swallowing. “Good call.” With how his eyes widened for a split second, you knew an idea had come to him. He grabbed your thighs. “Wait,” he said.
Your hand paused. “What’s up?”
“I wanna change positions.”
That had your eyebrows lifting in interest. “Oh?”
He was crookedly smiling. “Hands and knees, baby,” he replied, with a light slap to your hip.
“Oh, hell yeah.” You’d finished lubing him up and quickly moved onto the bed next to him, getting into the position he requested, your hands and slightly spread knees sinking into the mattress. Javi groaned when he flipped over and rose up onto his knees, the bedsprings complaining as he shuffled around to get behind you.
The smartest decision you made when you moved in together was upgrading to a king-sized bed—there was so much room for sexy activities.
Bending forward, he reached to grab the camera and set it in a place where it was easily accessible but not in the way.
He slid his dick through your drenched folds, notching himself at your entrance, his other hand holding your hip.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said. “Okay?”
Looking over your shoulder, you met his eyes that were more black than brown. “Yes,” you answered.
He smiled. “Good girl—ready?”
“Yes, Papí.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes closing for a moment. He looked at you again. “Me vas a matar (You’re going to kill me).”
“If by kill, you mean la petite mort, then yeah, handsome, I’m gonna make you come so hard.” You winked. “Now, stick it in.” You pressed back the tiniest bit to have the tip of him starting to enter you.
“And you call me bossy when I’m horny,” he mumbled.
There wasn’t a chance to respond since moans sounded from the both of you as he slowly started sinking into you, taking his time to let your body adjust to being stuffed with each glorious inch of him until he was buried all the way to the root inside of you.
Full didn’t accurately describe how you felt with the plug in your ass pressing against his thick cock—you were beyond full. You honestly couldn’t believe he was able to fit; you couldn’t believe you were able to take him. It was so overwhelming, it had you whimpering, squeezing your eyes shut.
Javi’s voice came out strained, “Are you okay?”
There was no way you could hold yourself up on your arms with it requiring too much concentration, so you let your upper body fall to the bed, cradling your head with your limbs.
“Yes,” the word was said on a breath.
All of the nerves in your body were aflame, feeling like static was thrumming under your skin. You were okay—you just needed a minute to get used to having both of your holes filled at the same time.
“Okay, baby.” He rubbed a comforting hand along the line of your spine. “Tell me when you want me to move.”
He picked up the Polaroid camera.
“Definitely gonna jerk off to this,” he murmured, and you heard the camera snap the picture and the gears whir to spit it out—he’d taken a photo of himself inside of you while you wore the plug.
The camera and picture were set aside.
There was a question you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “Am I tighter?”
He huffed out a breath. “Feels like you’re choking my dick with that toy in your ass—so, yeah, you’re tighter. You’ll probably cut off the circulation when I make you come, and you squeeze around me.”
Even though it was a struggle to think of anything other than the fullness, he made you worry. “Are you uncomfortable?” you asked. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…”
“Mi amor.” He bent over your back to kiss the hair behind your ear, speaking softly, “I’m okay—I like how it feels. I’m really fucking worried I’m gonna come too fast.”
That made you feel better.
After an ample amount of time had passed for you to get used to everything, you said, “Move.”
He nipped at the shell of your ear, grunting as he straightened. He gripped your asscheeks and slowly dragged his cock halfway out of your sopping cunt before thrusting back in, stealing your breath. His pace started out languid to allow you to adapt to the feeling of him moving inside you, rough sounds rumbling from his chest, his fingers tightening on your flesh.
The plug made it easier for him to rub against all those spots that made fireworks dance behind your eyelids. Sweat glistened on your skin, the pleasure making you dizzy, and even though it had only just begun, you were already on the cusp of falling over the edge—intense was an understatement for how you felt. The heat was growing deep inside you, deeper than it usually did, the muscles in your tummy constricting.
His hips were slowly fucking into you, Javi grunting, and it was like nothing you had felt before—feeling so full and falling apart with every thrust.
“Oh, god, Javi,” you whined. “I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come.”
With how he spoke through clenched teeth, you knew he was fighting for his life not to finish so soon, “Come for me, baby.” He smacked your ass, the pleasurable sting making you clench and his rhythm stutter. “Shit,” he gasped. “You’re so fucking tight—it feels so good.”
It was wet and sticky where you were joined, Javi coaxing wave after wave of arousal from your pussy that soaked his cock and dripped down to coat his balls—his thrusts were loud, squelching sounding every time he pushed in. Moans were escaping your lips while deeper noises ripped from his chest.
Javier wasn’t a tiny guy—just his cock made you feel full, and now you had it pressing into your sensitive walls against a rigid toy that turned up the sense of fullness to a ten and felt so fucking incredible that when he sped up his strokes, you were done for; pleasure erupted from deep in your depths that had your mouth opening in a silent scream and every muscle in your body pulling taut, hearing the man behind you let out a strangled groan as he suddenly stopped moving.
No thoughts could form in your brain, your chest rising and falling hard, your pussy pulsing as you rode out the high. Your ears rang, and you were too out of it to make out what Javi was saying, him sounding like the adults in a Peanuts film; a muted trombone going, ”Wah wah wah.”
A body pressed against your back, feeling hot breaths on your ear.
“Cielito?” he whispered.
“Mhmm?” you hummed.
“You okay, mi amor?”
“Mhmm,” you answered and gave him a thumbs up.
“Do you want me to keep going?”
The words slurred from your mouth, “Yes, please. I want you to come.”
“Okay. If it gets to be too much, tell me.” He kissed your hair, a pained sound leaving him as he moved up on his knees again.
Each time you’d done anal in the past, he’d made you come so many times you ended up passing out afterward. This time, though, the orgasms had been much stronger, and it was already hard to keep your eyes open—there was a chance if you had another, it was going to put you to sleep, and you knew Javi wouldn’t care, but you felt bad about possibly needing a little nap before he had a chance to fuck your ass.
“Javi?” you said.
“Yes, baby?” His palms slid along your sides from your waist to just below your ribs.
“I’m sorry if I fall asleep…”
He sounded confused. “Why are you apologizing for that…?”
“Because I know you’re super excited my ass is up for grabs tonight, and I feel bad I might have to make you wait while I take a little snooze.”
“Cielito, mi amor, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry, baby. I’m gonna tell you something that might surprise you.”
“What’s that?”
“Getting to fuck your pussy like this is better than fucking your ass.”
That surprised you so much that your eyes popped open, and you almost couldn’t believe him, except you knew he wasn’t lying since he was always truthful with you. Your knees were still under you with your butt up in the air, and Javi nestled all of the way inside you, your chest pressed to the mattress. You twisted your upper body to look back at him.
His forehead was shiny with sweat, his hair sticking wetly to it, a beautiful flush rising from his chest up to his cheeks, his darkened eyes meeting yours.
“Are you serious?” you asked.
His eyebrow arched. “Yeah? Why would I lie? Think about it—the plug makes your pussy so fucking tight, and I get to come in it.” He put it into plainer terms, “You’re tighter than hell, and I could knock you up.”
“Oh, you’re having the best time.”
He smiled. “I’m having the best fucking time.”
“You like the plug?”
“I love the plug. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, makes me come harder.”
“Then stop feeling bad.” He slapped your ass, and it made you tense, his mouth going slack and eyes closing at you clenching around his dick. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed, his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “It’s okay if you pass out,” he said. “I might pass out, too.”
He pulled himself almost all of the way out of your cunt, and pushed back in, the fullness making your head spin and pleasure simmer in your belly. He was definitely going to get you off again, and you no longer worried about what would happen when you did.
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He was going to come, and it'd only been—he looked over at the red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table—eight fucking minutes since he first put his dick inside her, or more accurately, worked his dick inside her.
Javier knew it was going to be a tight fit, but what he hadn't expected was it feeling like when he pressed into her ass: the ring of muscle squeezing him hard as he fed himself into her. With the addition of the plug, there was the same tightness, yet it wasn't only at the opening; it extended further into her, massaging his cock with her hot, tight, velvety walls. He was balancing on a razor's edge to not blow his load, and her coming didn't help with how it made her pussy strangle his dick to the point it was toeing the line of being painful.
He was in heaven.
And when he made her come again, he knew she was going to take him with her.
He was rock hard, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest, and skin coated in a thin layer of sweat—Javier was wound up so tight, a ball of tension had formed in his gut that was threatening to burst; she said the toy made her come harder, and it looked like it was going to be the same for him.
His fingers dug into the soft skin on her hips, sliding himself in and out of her wet heat and having to take a big, calming breath, slowly letting it out to get himself under control and focus on not finishing so quickly.
Shifting his gaze down, he could see his cock covered in her juices, glimmering under the lights of the room before sheathing it back inside of her, and the pretty, pink glass flower covering her asshole. He was so sensitive from being close to losing it, the pressure from the toy's solid body and the warmth of her were driving him crazy and making him throb.
He increased the speed of his movements, gritting his teeth, her sounds spurring him on. He wanted to make her come once more, but he didn't have much time with the pleasure welling up in him and growing with every passing second.
His hand gripped her asscheek, his strokes not waning as the fingers of his other hand got ahold of the plug's flared base, pulling on it to stretch her hole until only the tip remained, and slipping it back in, doing that over and over again, and out of sync to his own thrusts.
The way she loudly moaned his name and stretched her arms out in front of her to clutch the bedding with her cheek to the mattress had him twitching inside of her, electricity shocking through his body. Her pussy was pulsating around him, her arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his sack, and he knew she was close.
"You gonna give me one more, Cielito?" he grunted, continuing to fuck her with his dick and the toy. "Does it feel good getting both of your holes fucked?"
"Yes," she gasped. "Oh my fucking god, it feels so good, Javi." Her hands clenched the sheets, her body shaking. "You’re fucking me so good—marry me; put a baby in me." His rhythm faltered for a second at the stab of pleasure in his belly, and he groaned.
The muscles in his groin started contracting, his orgasm imminent, and he tried to hold it off. His hips moved faster, beads of perspiration dripping down his face and the small of his back.
"I will," he panted. "I'll marry you; I'll fuck a baby into you. I'll do anything you ask me to." His eyes were cinched tight, and he was so lost in her that his thoughts were flowing freely from his mouth. "Dime cuándo, y te haré mi esposa (Tell me when, and I'll make you my wife). En cualquier momento, soy tuyo (Any time, I'm yours). Siempre seré tuyo (I'll always be yours). Puedes tener mi apellido (You can have my last name). Seguiré intentándolo hasta que estés embarazada con nuestro bebé (I'll keep trying until you're pregnant with our baby). Serás la madre de mis hijos (You will be the mother of my children). I can't fucking wait—come for me," he ordered. "Give me one more, and my come is yours. I'll pump you full of it. I'll put a baby in you. Come for me," he all but begged.
That was it.
She gasped his name, her body going stiff, and cunt spasming, wringing out his own orgasm—his hips went flush to her ass, burying himself as deep as possible in her depths, the tightly wound ball in his belly snapping hard enough, he fell forward, blanketing her back. The sounds he made were guttural as pleasure seared through his entire being, his cock pulsing and pumping so many spurts of his come he thought it might never end.
His brain went blissfully blank, his body completely lax, his soul possibly leaving him for some seconds since everything went dark, and he couldn't think of a single thought.
When he came to, he was bone tired and on the verge of falling asleep. Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to bring her with him as he moved to lie on his side, her limbs trembling, and he knew she was sleeping when there was no reaction to him removing the toy from inside her; it was tossed onto the bed near them, and then he tugged on the duvet behind him to pull it over their bodies and hugged her close with one arm, pressing his nose into her hair to breathe in her comforting scent, the ring on the hand he was holding causing him to pass out while happily thinking about how pretty soon she’d be his wife.
Time passed as they slumbered, minutes turning into hours. They shifted in their sleep and he woke when the warmth of her front pressed along the line of his spine disappeared, the springs in the mattress softly squeaking as she moved to get off it with a whispered, "Sorry." He heard her walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
He threw the blanket off of him and got out of bed, not caring at all that he was naked as his bare feet took him to the kitchen, where he got two large cups of cold water.
When Cielito came back into the bedroom, she found him standing by the bed chugging one of the glasses, and she joined him to drink her own. He finished before her, setting his empty cup on the nearby bedside table and taking some steps to end up behind her, wrapping his arms around her lingerie-covered middle. His lips met the side of her neck, kissing up it to nibble on her ear.
She hummed in appreciation, resting her free hand on one of his arms. She swallowed her drink of water. "Did you have a good time, baby?" she asked.
He spoke softly in her ear, "Yes."
Her fingers slid along his arm.
"Good. Are you up for another round, or do you wanna shower, and we can cuddle on the couch and watch something?"
Truth be told, he was exhausted from how eventful the last four days had been, and he didn't think he had the energy to go again—he was drained, and his dick was starting to ache from using it so much in Miami.
"Shower and couch," he answered, kissing a spot behind her ear. Her hand came up to press her fingers into his hair, and it made him shiver.
"Sounds good. Let me finish my water, and then we can go get clean."
"Thank you for today." He was peppering kisses along her shoulder now.
"You're welcome, babe. I'm happy you enjoyed it."
"I loved it."
"I love you."
"I know. I love you, too—I love you so fucking much."
"Same."
Forty-five minutes later, they were clean and changed—Javier was wearing his grey sweatpants, and his future wife was in a faded, thinned, oversized purple t-shirt and her underwear. She was sitting on the kitchen counter beside him eating a grilled cheese while he made his own sandwich on the stove.
At dinner, he noticed she didn’t eat much, and when he quietly asked if she was feeling okay, she told him she was fine and just not very hungry, which turned out to be a dirty fucking lie with how her stomach loudly grumbled on their way to take a shower. So, the first thing he did after they were dressed was feed her; she tried to fight him that it was his birthday and she should be cooking for him, and he responded by telling her it was his birthday and he wanted to make her something to eat. She agreed to grilled cheese sandwiches, and he had to sit her ass on the counter and tell her not to move in order to keep her from trying to help him.
“This is the best grilled cheese I have ever had in my entire life,” she said around the food in her mouth.
He huffed out a breath, flipping the sandwich in the pan with a black plastic spatula. “You’re only saying that because you’re fucking starving,” he replied.
She swallowed. “Lies—it’s the world’s best. You could win awards for how good this is.” Half of her sandwich was already eaten, and she took another bite.
Javier set the plastic utensil onto the counter on his other side and stepped to have himself standing between her legs. He rubbed his palms up her bare thighs, kissing her forehead. “I’m glad you like the sandwich, Cielito,” he said, looking at her. “Do you want me to make you another?”
She was chewing and shook her head, swallowing. “No, thank you. One is enough.”
“I can cut up some fruit? We got enough today at the grocery store for me to make you a fruit salad?”
Her hand pressed to his cheek, her gaze turning soft, and he leaned into her palm. “I’m okay, Javi,” she said. “This one sandwich is enough.”
He frowned. “You told me you were fine at the restaurant and not very hungry, but that wasn’t true, mi amor. I know it was because of the sex tonight—”
“Birthday sex,” she interrupted. “Birthday sex is special and worth going a little hungry for.” “I disagree with that…” His sandwich was finished, and he moved back to the stove, sliding it directly from the pan and onto a waiting plate next to the spatula.
“What do you mean you disagree with that?” she asked.
He put the pan on one of the cold back burners and switched off the stove, returning to his spot in front of her. His eyes were on hers, smoothing his hands along her thighs and under her shirt to hold her hips. “I mean that we’re trying to have a baby, and I don’t like the idea of you not eating enough for yourself and our child just so we can fuck.”
“Oh.” Her attention went to her lap.
“In the future, eat as much as you need—do something light if you’re really worried.” He lifted her chin with his finger to look at him. “Can you promise me that, Cielito? Can you do that for me so I won’t worry?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Thank you.” He slotted his lips against hers, kissing her tenderly. When they separated, he asked, “Another sandwich or fruit?”
“Fruit, please,” she answered. “Can you do it with Tajín and chamoy like the fruit cart?”
She was talking about the fruit cart on the side of one of the busier streets downtown where you could get freshly cut fruits like mango, jícama, papaya, and watermelon, and they did vasos de frutas (fruit cups) similar to the street vendors in Mexico; cups filled with a variety of cubed fruits and topped with Tajín (a powder made of chile, lime, and salt), and chamoy (a thick sauce made out of pickled fruit like mango, plums, and apricot that was mixed with spicy chiles, and a salty brine—it’s a tasty mixture that was sweet, spicy, salty, and sour).
The combined ingredients created a refreshing snack that perfectly balanced the sweet, tangy, and spicy flavors.
He smiled. “Of course, mi amor.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before making his way to the fridge to start getting out the fruits.
She hopped off the counter after she finished her sandwich to stand next to him, holding up his grilled cheese for him to take bites of while he chopped the fruit and chatting with him about random things on her mind.
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They were sitting on the couch, her legs on his lap, and had just finished their vasos de frutas (fruit cups), which ended up being tazones de frutas (fruit bowls) while they watched the first Jurassic Park movie. His empty bowl was on the coffee table in front of them, his hands busy gliding over her legs and thighs. She leaned forward to set her dish down beside his as Dr. Malcolm discussed the moral implications of the island's scientists only caring about what they could and couldn't do and not if they should. Cielito moved to get up, and his face lifted toward hers.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
Her eyes met his. "First, I'm gonna go put the bowls in the sink." She bent to pick up one in each hand and straightened. "Then I need to go grab something."
"What do you need, and I'll get it?" He started to stand, wanting to help so they could get back to cuddling quicker.
"Nope,” she said, and he stopped. "I'll get it. You just sit there and keep looking pretty." She smiled.
He frowned. "Okay."
She left the room, and he couldn't pay attention to what was on the television, instead listening to her rinsing the bowls out in the kitchen sink, followed by her footsteps as she made her way back through the living room, his head turning to watch her on her journey into the bedroom where she disappeared from view.
He wondered what she needed—maybe she wanted to paint her nails and had to choose a color of nail polish. Or she was going to get the stuff for face masks, which was something he enjoyed; his skin hadn't looked this good since he was in his early twenties.
"I'll be out in a minute, babe," she called from the other room. "I need to check the message on the answering machine."
"Take your time," he replied, hoping she didn't.
The fingers of his right hand were tapping absentmindedly on his knee.
His gaze went up to the clock on the wall, seeing it was a little after eleven, his eyes following the big hand as it ticked away each second.
Tick, tick, tick.
A whole minute passed before she returned to him, his eyebrows pulling together at her frowning face.
"Who called?" he asked.
"My mother."
That explained it.
"What did she want?"
"She said she had some exciting news and needed to talk to me about something important."
"Any idea what either could be...?"
A long, drawn-out sigh left her. "Yeah, most likely it's to tell me my brother's wife is pregnant again—they've been trying for months."
She found out they started trying the night he first told her he loved her. His face relaxed, understanding now that she was upset by the possible news.
He rose from the sofa and went to her in three steps, wrapping her in his arms to hold her close. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "It'll be us telling people the same news soon—they just had a head start. Don't let it get you down, okay? Everything is okay. We're okay. We’re happy, and that’s all that fucking matters."
He felt her relax in his hold.
"You're right—they've had more time."
He pulled back to look at her, smiling softly.
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure I can knock you up in the same amount of months. Hell, maybe I'll be so fucking good at it that I’ll get you pregnant with twins."
That made her giggle, and her mouth turned up in his favorite smile.
"You're ridiculous," she said. "It's not a competition."
"It is now—we're gonna beat their time."
She playfully rolled her eyes.
"I love you, you goober." She kissed him, and when she broke away, there was a serious look on her face. "Let's stick to one baby for my first pregnancy, please."
"That's not how it works..." he said slowly. "It's a gamble, Cielito."
"Yes, I know that Javier, but let's not put the idea out into the universe."
"Okay—un bebé (one baby). That's all I'll wish for or whatever the fuck."
"Even though I know you're being a lying liar who lies because you'd be beyond happy if there was more than one baby—“ That was true; he’d love getting two babies for the price of one. “—I appreciate the thought. Now, enough about me. You need to open your birthday present."
His face scrunched in confusion. "Didn't I do that when I took off your clothes…?"
"That was only the sexy birthday present. I also got you an actual present."
He was so worried about her that he hadn’t realized she was holding something. She held up a rectangular gift wrapped in solid, bright red wrapping paper.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said. “Today was perfect.”
“Sure, but as I told you when you were undressing me, you’re getting spoiled tonight. Please open this. I’m nervous about it.”
“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking it from her.
“Because I put a lot of time into it, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it, but there’s a chance it’ll make you sad.”
That had him curious. He stepped away and grabbed her hand to lead her to the couch, pulling her down to sit beside him.
It wasn’t too heavy or light, and when he felt it, it was firm. He thought it might be a book. Tearing open the wrapping paper, he discovered it was actually a maroon-colored leather-bound photo album.
He glanced over at her.
“We have our photo album of us we put together. What’s this one?”
He asked the question even though he had an idea of what it could be.
She gave him a reassuring smile. “Open it, and you’ll see.”
He did as he was instructed, and his breath caught in his throat—the first picture was of him as a newborn being held by his mother in a hospital bed. His birth hadn’t been the easiest, and the exhaustion was clear on her face, yet she was grinning. The next photo was in the same spot, but this time, she was gazing at him in her arms with a look that showed she was in love and unbelievably happy. His eyes started watering, turning to the next page to find more pictures of newborn him and his mom now taken at home. All the pages after that featured the same thing: it was always just him and his mom. Some of the photos he’d seen in other albums his father had, there were many, though, that this was the first time he’d come across them.
He lost count of how many were of them in the kitchen, seeing them both age through the years and him doing more to help her as he grew.
There was one where he was maybe three, standing on a dining room chair with his mother beside him as he used a tortilladora (tortilla press) on the table to flatten tortillas, one perfectly done on the plate. His face was turned up toward her with a toothy grin, and she was gazing upon him fondly and clearly proud—it was the first time he had made a tortilla.
He was maybe six in another, using a stool in order to reach the stove with her watching from behind him as he stirred a giant pot he knew had the sauce for her tamales—it was the first time she walked him step by step on how to make them, and it reminded him of something she said that day: “Un día, tu esposa hará esta receta y necesitas poder ayudarla, así que presta atención, Javiercito (One day, your wife will make this recipe and you need to be able to help her, so pay attention, Javier).” And she was right. He had used what she taught him to help his wif-fiancée make her tamales. He even showed Cielito some of the techniques his mother used to make the process easier.
His father had captured a lot of wonderful moments, including one when he had to be about ten with how he’d shot up in height and was almost as tall as his mother—they had matching grins and were mid-dance in the kitchen, her left hand held in his right and their arms around each other’s backs.
So many memories came back to him of times they spent together, and there was even a picture of the last time they made a tres leches cake for his birthday, both laughing about something he couldn’t remember, and it made him smile at how happy they looked.
The final photo was of him in his senior year of college after a swim meet. He’d changed back into his clothes—some jeans and a baby blue button-up shirt, his hair still wet, and a gold medal around his neck. His mother was embracing him from the side, her head barely reaching his shoulders, Javier hugging her back; big smiles were on their faces, and happiness was shining in their matching chocolate-colored eyes as they looked at the camera.
Seeing all of the sweet moments they shared already had him on the verge of tears, and this one broke him, knowing it was his last competition before he met Lorraine—his shoulders shook with sobs as he let himself cry.
The album only contained the memories of before his life went to shit—when he was on track to make his dream of swimming in the Olympics come true, his mother was still alive, he hadn’t hurt his parents with his bad choices, and life was good and still made sense.
“Oh, Javi,” Cielito’s voice was soft, and he welcomed her arms that enveloped him. “I’m so sorry—I worried it’d upset you. I shouldn’t have made this. I’ll take the pictures back to Pop’s.” She reached for the album, and he held it away.
“No,” he said through the tears, his words coming out gravelly. “It’s perfect—I love it.” Closing the book, he set it on the coffee table in front of them before he twisted his body to pull her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. Her hands were rubbing soothingly over his back. “Thank you,” his muffled voice said, tears wetting her skin. “Thank you for making it—it brought back so much happy shit I’d forgotten.”
“You really love the album?” she asked.
He pulled back to look her in the eyes and nodded with a little smile. “Yeah, it really is perfect. You wanna know something?”
“What?”
“I can’t wait to show it to our kids one day.” Her face brightened. “I know you’ll probably cook with them, and they’ll love seeing photos of their abuela (grandma) and papá (dad) doing the same.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely cooking with our kids,” she said, and it had warmth spread through his veins. “Your dad let me go through the boxes, plural, of loose photos he has—side note, I have never seen so many, and I’m pretty sure he’s single-handedly keeping the one-hour photo kiosk in business.”
“Probably,” he chuckled.
Growing up, whenever his father wasn’t working out on the ranch, he was spending time with Javier and his mom, and it was pretty typical for Chucho to get out his camera or video camera to snap pictures or record whatever they were doing—his dad was a sentimental guy. With Javier being his only child, he wanted to ensure they documented as much as possible to look back on fondly.
“Anyways,” she continued. “I went through hundreds, maybe even thousands of photos, and in every single one of you with your mom in the kitchen, you both look so fucking happy, and then add in that some of your favorite memories are cooking with her, and I want that for our babies, too. I want them to have happy memories of learning to cook with their mom and dad.”
His vision was blurring with unshed tears, feeling so unbelievably happy he might combust.
“You want me there, too?”
“Um, yes, Javi. As your mother would say, ‘Eres mi buena suerte (You’re my good luck).’ You gotta be there to at least take a ton of pictures.”
He was smiling. “I’d love that.”
“Good.” She kissed him, just a press of her lips to his, and it wasn’t enough; he deepened it with a swipe of his tongue along her bottom lip, and when she granted him access by opening her mouth a little, he was delving inside to tangle their tongues.
He didn’t know how he got so lucky finding her—she was perfect. Somehow, she made him fall more in love with her with each passing day.
Hearing her say she wanted their children to experience the same happiness he did with his mother had him feeling over the moon and even more excited about them starting their family—she was going to be an incredible mom to their kids, and it filled him with joy knowing, without a doubt, they’ll get to grow up like him with parents who will not only love them more than anything but each other to the point their children will be disgusted by their open affection. Their kids were going to have happy childhoods where they knew they were loved and cherished and got nothing but encouragement for their dreams. It would be drastically different than how Cielito was raised, and that was what she wanted; she couldn’t fathom treating her children the same way her parents treated her. There wouldn’t be one kid who was loved more than another, and they definitely were going to be proud of their babies no matter what. She was breaking a cycle of neglect and impossible standards to ensure their children only knew love and acceptance.
Their breaths were coming out heavier when their mouths detached.
She smiled, the sentence coming out breathy, “Happy birthday, Javi.”
He shared her look. “Thank you for making it amazing—made me almost forget I’m old now.”
She huffed in exasperation. “You turned forty, Javi. You’re not old. If it makes you feel any better, I’m happy to report you’ve still got a bangin’ bod and continue being a sex god.”
“You’re calling me a sex god again?” His eyebrow rose.
“I never stopped calling you a sex god, and let’s look at the facts:” She held up one finger. “Stamina of someone in their twenties.” The next digit went up. “The experience of a forty-year-old that’s spent a lot of time fucking.” Another finger rose. “Makes his partner come every time.” The next digit extended. “Actually knows how to use his mouth and fingers.” The final finger went up. “Has the biggest and prettiest dick known to man—face it, babe, you’re a bonafide sex god; I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a statue of you in some sex temple somewhere.”
His chest had puffed out a little from her praise, and what she said made him snort, Javier, smiling. “What is it with you and statues of me?”
She pushed his bangs off of his forehead. “Um, did you not hear the part where I said you have a bangin’ bod and the biggest and prettiest dick known to man? You’d make a sexy statue—hotter than Prince Eric’s, and that’s saying something.” Both of her hands came up to hold his face as she stared him in the eyes. “What you should get from this is I find you exceptionally attractive and want to have your babies, and I’ll still find you exceptionally attractive and want to have your babies next year, and the year after that and the year after that; you get the picture. Basically, I do not give a single fuck about how old you are because you are aging like the finest wine, sweetcheeks, and I am so unbelievably horny for you.”
From the way she was looking at him, he knew she was telling the truth, and it made him feel some relief. He’d been dreading this day, and he was starting to realize there was no reason to—he was older and wiser, engaged to marry the most amazing woman on the planet, in the process of starting his family, working a job he didn’t hate, and he was back home, where he belonged (even if some of the townspeople thought otherwise). He was happy, truly happy, and yeah, it wasn’t an easy journey, and it took him a while to get to this point, but he made it, and that was all that fucking mattered.
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Mondays were the worst.
Mondays after a lovely vacation were the worst of the worst.
Honestly, it should be illegal having to go back to work on a Monday after being away. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, so here you were sitting at the nurse's station desk, a bit past ten in the morning, notating a chart, and nervously waiting for your first break that was in—you glanced at the watch on your wrist—five minutes.
"Still nervous?" Came the Texas twang of your coworker/best friend, Robyn, who pulled out the rolly chair beside you and sat down.
Her long, chestnut curls were pulled back into a ponytail, and she looked ready to model with how perfectly she’d done her makeup; firetruck-red lipstick was coating her full lips, her big blue eyes accentuated with an outline of black mascara and eyeliner, her cheeks rosy, and face blemish free without being caked in foundation and concealer—she could be on the cover of the American Journal of Nursing magazine with her being in her blue scrubs.
Your head turned her way, frowning. "Yes, because I know, in my bones, it's not gonna go well."
She gave you a reassuring smile and put her hand on your arm. "And that's why you're doin’ it on your fifteen-minute break. It gives you a time limit, and havin’ to get back to work is a great excuse to end things."
You weren't convinced. "I guess..."
"I'm sorry, girl, but this is somethin’ you have to do and it'll be better to just rip off the bandaid."
"Maybe I'd prefer to keep the bandaid on and continue living in my perfect little bubble with the love of my life."
"Because the bubble is goin’ to burst one way or another, and at least this way, you're in control."
"I really don't want to do this…" you said truthfully. It had you feeling a little sick.
"I know, girl." She patted your forearm. "I can't promise it'll go well, but just remember you've got Javi and me for support, and you know as well as I do that man will up and leave work without a word to come here for you."
"That's true. He, uh, doesn't know..."
The other woman's eyebrows dipped. "Why didn't you tell him?"
"It's Javi—he'd worry too much and wouldn't be able to work. Now that we're doing this whole baby thing and getting married soon, it's like his caveman instincts have turned up to the max, and he's in protection mode 24/7. So, he's not going to find out about what's going on until after it happens."
"If you think that's best." Her eyes went to her wristwatch. "Looks like it's time." She met your gaze. "Go do it in the on-call room so you'll have some privacy."
You took a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering nerves in your belly. "Okay," you said as you pushed back in your chair to get up. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, you better come to get me."
She smiled. "That was the plan."
"You're the best."
The closest on-call room wasn't anything more than a small windowless room with a twin-size bed and a desk with a lamp and telephone atop it. The overhead light was on, and you'd locked the door upon entering, taking a seat at the desk. Picking up the phone's receiver, you pressed it to your ear, your other hand punching in the string of numbers from muscle memory, and hardly any thought.
Ring.
Ring.
"Hello?" the familiar voice answered.
This was it. "Hi, Mom, it's me."
"Oh, good, you got my message. I was expecting your call yesterday."
"Sorry, it was Javi's birthday, and we went out to dinner to celebrate."
Her voice went tight. "I see... Remind me again how old he turned?"
"Forty."
"Forty years old, and he doesn't own a house or have a career? When your father turned forty, he was already the chief of surgery and had invented a procedure, but I guess they're two different men from two different backgrounds."
Your jaw clenched. "I don't appreciate you belittling the man I love, who had a very successful career in the DEA and helped take down Pablo fucking Escobar and the Cali Cartel before he was forty—but please, go on about his ‘lack of career,’ and how he doesn’t measure up to Dad in your eyes; I’d be more than happy to end this call right now.”
The older woman sighed. “I’m just looking out for your best interests, but since it’s a sore subject, I won’t talk about him at all.”
The ‘best interests’ excuse made you roll your eyes so hard they were at risk of getting stuck in the back of your head.
"Fine—what's the exciting news you have?"
"Oh, yes," her tone shifted, hearing her excitement. "Your brother is having another baby, and it's a boy!" You fucking knew that was why she called, and you didn’t have it in you to be excited, not when the same news from you would have a vastly different reaction. "Your father and I are so excited to have another grandson," she continued. "I can't believe how blessed we are to have three grandchildren, a fourth on the way, and they’re all boys!"
"God forbid they had a girl," you mumbled.
"What was that?"
"I said, wow, that's great," you spoke normally. "Well, give them my congratulations, and if that was all you wanted to tell me, I'm going to get back to work—I'm on break."
Yes, you were chickening out on telling her about your engagement.
"That isn't the only exciting news!"
"Yay, there's more," you deadpanned.
“If your father was home, he could give you more information, but his hospital is going through some staffing changes, and he got you a job to be the director of nursing—you can finally move back home!"
Um, what?
He got you a job you never even asked for or wanted?
The audacity of them doing this behind your back in an attempt to lure you home had stunned you into silence, anger threading through your chest and tummy.
"Are you still there?" she asked.
"I don't want a new job," you said calmly.
"You don't know what you're saying, sweetie. This would make you the head of the nursing program at his hospital and is much better than whatever it is you’re currently doing. You’d make substantially more than what you are right now, and it brings you closer to us, your family—it’s about time you come home, anyway. You’ve been away long enough and haven’t been making the best decisions.”
Tears were burning in your eyes at the blatant disregard for your feelings.
"I'm not leaving Laredo."
She sighed again. "What does that backwater town have to offer you? That hospital you're working for can't compete with what your father’s hospital is willing to pay, and there isn’t anything there worth staying for or tying you down—thank god you've been smart and haven't done anything stupid like get pregnant."
She managed to insult Javi and the life you built without outright saying the words, and it pissed you off how fucking rude she was in regards to your future husband—she could say whatever she wanted about you and the way you were living, but you wouldn’t stand for such vitriol toward your fiancé.
"I'm getting married,” you blurted.
Her line went completely silent, and you thought she might’ve hung up until she said, “I’m sorry. I think I misheard you. What did you say?”
“Javi proposed—we’re getting married, and that isn’t the only exciting news; we’ve started trying for a baby.” Informing people that you were getting fucked raw and filled like a Boston cream donut on the regular made you wish the earth would completely swallow you up so you didn’t have to feel such embarrassment; it being socially acceptable to openly discuss your sex life when it had to do with procreation would never make any sense to you.
“I know Javier doesn’t meet your standards,” you continued, “however, he more than meets mine, and I wish you could see how incredible he is and how happy he makes me, but the only things you care about is the amount of money in his bank account and career choice; which, again, people all over are aware of who The Javier Peña is because of the work he did with the DEA. He was a hot commodity when he returned to the States, and agencies all over the country were trying to bag him.
“Just because he’s not in the same tax bracket as you,” you kept speaking, “and he can’t buy me a big mansion we don’t even need, doesn’t make him any less of a person. Honestly, he’s better than you—he’s better than you. He’s better than Dad, and he’s definitely better than that golden child you worship, who couldn’t even make it into his Ivy League school without you buying his way in. Javi got a full-ride scholarship to his dream university because of how talented he was at swimming,” you said proudly.
“My fiancé is an amazing man who treats me like a queen and will be the best father to our children. Now, let’s circle back to your question about what Laredo has to offer me—the answer is everything. Laredo has everything I could ever need or want. The man I’m marrying and the future father of my kids is here. I have a family here—a real family that loves me. I have friends and a great job here. This is the place where I’ll raise my children and grow old with my soulmate. This is my home and where I’ve always belonged. So, thank you, but no, thank you for such an amazing job offer I didn’t ask for. I’m not leaving Laredo—you’re just gonna have to get used to the fact that Javier and I are a package deal and that he’ll be your son-in-law one day and the father of your grandchildren. If you can’t stomach that, then don’t ever call me again because Javi means more to me than anyone else in the entire universe.”
Silence.
Many seconds passed before she spoke.
“You’re sure he’s the one…?” she asked slowly.
“Yes, one hundred percent.”
“You don’t care about how much money he has because he makes you… happy…?”
She made it sound like a foreign concept, and you huffed in amusement.
“I know, it’s crazy to fall in love with someone for them and not their money.”
“This is what I get for allowing you to watch those cartoon fairytale movies when you were a child. Your ideas of what’s important in life have been skewed by fictional nonsense, and you failed to notice at the end of those films, the girls become princesses—rich—when they meet their princes and finally get their—what was it?—happily… happily…” She was struggling.
“Their happily ever afters?” you said.
“Yes, that’s it! They only got their happily ever afters once they became princesses, and you should strive to want that kind of status or meet a man who will give it to you.”
“Weird take, but to me, they get their happily ever afters when they meet their one true loves, and the fancy titles are just bonuses.” You shrugged even though she couldn’t see you.
She let out a sigh. “You need to understand that real life isn’t like those whimsical cartoons. You might think you’re in love right now, but you haven’t even known this man for a year. How do you know if you will feel this way about him a year from now? Or two years? There’s no guarantee that your relationship will last, and you’re throwing away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to advance your career and make a name for yourself because you’re infatuated and living in some dream world.”
“I am in love, and it’s the real thing. What you’re not understanding is my career is secondary to my happiness. I care more about being happy than making money, and I’ve made my choice that I’m going to marry Javi because he makes me happy—get it through your head that he isn’t going anywhere.”
“Very well, if that’s your decision, then so be it.”
“Thank you.”
“Can you answer a question about Javier?”
“Uh, depends on what you’re going to ask...”
“He helped take down Pablo Escobar and that other cartel, which wouldn’t have been small feats. I’m assuming a lot of opportunities would’ve opened up to him within his agency, and he was probably on track for promotions. Why did he quit when he was at the height of his career?”
You smiled. “Because he decided his career was secondary to his happiness, and he cared more about being happy than advancing in a job he’d grown to hate.”
“Oh.”
“You know, he only went to work for the Sheriff here, so I wasn’t the sole provider in our relationship—he makes decent money, too, and tries to pay more than his fair share. He took the job to be able to take care of me, and if I couldn’t work, we’d be more than okay on just his salary.”
“Really?” She didn’t attempt to hide her surprise.
“Yes—someone with Javi’s expertise is paid handsomely to consult. He’s gotten a ton of offers to do paid talks at universities and conferences. He’s actually kind of a big deal in that community.” It was lovely getting to brag about him.
“Why haven’t you told me this before?”
“Because from the moment you found out I was dating him, you were convinced he wasn’t good enough for me, and it seemed like nothing I could say would change your mind.”
“I guess I might have rushed to conclusions…”
“You did.”
“Well, congratulations, honey,” She sounded genuinely happy, not as jazzed as the imminent arrival of another grandson, but happy enough it had you taken aback. “This is exciting! I hadn’t realized things had gotten so serious between you two. Have you picked out a date for the wedding?”
To say you felt thrown off kilter from the complete one-eighty she just made on her views of your relationship would be putting it mildly; you thought there was a chance you were in the Twilight Zone with how bizarre this reaction was.
Did you actually convince her of Javi’s worthiness?
That didn’t seem right…
“Um, no?” you answered.
“I’ll call the wedding planner who helped plan your brother’s, and don’t worry about the cost, we’ll take care of it, along with the wedding itself—we’ll have to look at venues in your town that can hold at least, I think, one hundred and fifty guests, maybe? I’ll also have Jerry—” The family lawyer. “—get a prenup together—I’ll bring him with me.” Uh, what was happening? “Let me look at the calendar.” Pages flipping could be heard over the phone, and you knew she was going through her daily planner. “Your father and I have prior engagements over the next month and a half, but I could visit in February with the wedding planner and Jerry to get started on everything.”
The thought of her visiting had you feeling sick to your stomach, the anxiety hitting you like a bucket of cold water over your head.
“Woah, woah, hold on a second,” you said. “We’re not having a big wedding, so there’s no need for a wedding planner. We’re not doing a prenup, either, so Jerry doesn’t need to be bothered, and we want to get married sometime next month.”
“I won’t sour our conversation with legal talk, so I’ll discuss it with you later—you want to get married that soon?” There was a frown in her voice. "I told you we’re booked next month... We wouldn’t be able to make it…”
“We’re not doing much of a traditional wedding anyway, so you won’t miss much. We can send you a copy of the video—” Javi was planning on buying a camcorder to record your nuptials and other erotic things. “—and maybe in February we could visit you.” That was something you didn’t particularly want to do, but her change in attitude and desire to help seemed like she was extending an olive branch for all of the hurtful things she had said about your future husband.
“That would be fine. We’re dying to meet this man you’re in love with.”
Your eyes narrowed. “The one you didn’t approve of five minutes ago…?”
“You gave me a lot to think about in those five minutes, and I’m doing as you said and accepting that he’s going to be my son-in-law. Am I not allowed to change my opinion of someone?”
“Sure, you can change your opinion. You’re really okay with me marrying him?”
“Yes, sweetie.”
A knock sounded on the on-call room’s door, Robyn’s voice coming from the other side, “Hey, I need you out here.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but my break’s over, and I need to get back. I’ll talk to you later.”
“No problem. Have a great day, and tell Javier hi from me.”
That will freak him out.
You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, getting up to walk over and open the door.
Robyn was standing there. “How’d it go?” she asked.
“That’s the thing, Robyn, I think it went well, and I’m so fucking confused—I think my mom might even like Javi a little bit now.”
Shock appeared on her face. “Um, what…?”
“Makes zero sense, right?”
“Yeah… You need to call Javi?”
She was the best.
“Would you mind?”
“Nope! I’ll hold down the fort.”
“Thank you!”
This time, when you sat down to use the hospital-provided telephone, you dialed your fiancé’s desk phone from memory.
Ring.
“Peña,” he answered.
“Has hell frozen over?” you asked.
“Cielito?” He was clearly confused.
“Yes, it’s me—let’s focus. Has hell frozen over?”
“Uh, I don’t think so?”
“Are pigs flying?” You heard him roll back in his chair and the rustle of him looking through his office window’s blinds.
“I don’t see any pigs with wings, but that Sheriff’s deputy whose wife won’t let him have red meat so he can lower his cholesterol is in his car eating a burger with the same enthusiasm I have when I eat your pussy.”
“Guy is truly eating it like a man starved—respect. ¿Están volando las vacas (Are the cows flying)?”
“No veo a Daphne ni a Velma en el cielo (I don’t see Daphne or Velma in the sky).” He rolled back to his desk. “¿Qué pasa, mi amor (What’s going on, my love)?”
“I talked to my mom…”
“…are you okay?”
“Um, sure.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
He was starting to hang up the phone, and you quickly said, “Javi, no, no! Don’t leave!”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “It wouldn’t be a problem.”
“It’s really okay—I’m gonna see you at lunch.”
The plan was to eat the lunches you made together in his truck.
“Okay.” His tone went serious. “Tell me what happened.”
“I called her like she asked, and she confirmed my sister-in-law is with child and talk about the excitement over a fetus having male genitals.”
“Of course, they’re fucking excited it’s a boy, the misogynistic assholes,” he seethed.
“I am so unbelievably in love with you—I know you’d love having a baby girl and getting to dress her up in pretty dresses.”
“God, yeah.” You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling. “And giving her cute hairdos and I could paint her nails to match her dresses—wait, we’re getting distracted. Did the news upset you? I really feel like I should come down there...”
“I promise I’m fine, babe.”
“I don’t like that I’m not there for you in person…” He sighed. “Was that all your mother wanted to talk to you about?”
“This next part is really gonna piss you off, so please take a big breath for me, my love.”
You heard him inhale deeply.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“My parents, or father specifically, offered me a job that a person would be insane to turn down to get me to move back home—I didn’t even contemplate for a second about taking it and proceeded to inform her about us getting married and starting our family, then went off about how amazing you are and that this is my home and I wouldn’t be leaving it. I made it very clear that you are the most important person to me, and if they couldn’t accept you as my husband, then I wanted nothing to do with them.”
“…If you want the job, we can move there,” he said carefully.
You smiled. “That’s sweet of you to offer, but I can’t fathom moving away from our family here, especially your dad. This is our home, and I’m happy with the life we have. So, I don’t care about some fancy schmancy job.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise.”
He let out a relieved sigh before he started speaking again, his words soaked in anger, “They hate me so fucking much they tried to give you an offer you couldn’t refuse, so you’d leave me? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t fucking stand these people you share blood with—they don’t even fucking deserve to be called your family with how they disrespect you and don’t give a flying fuck about your happiness.” He had to take another big breath to try to calm his rage. “I might sound like an asshole, but I don’t want them around our kids, and this isn’t me putting my foot down or saying that’s how it has to be; I’m saying that our children’s well-being is my first priority, and these assholes are nothing but poison,” he spat. “I’ll support you if you decide to cut ties with them—hell, I’d love it since it makes me so fucking angry how they’ve treated you and continue to treat you. We’ve got our family here, anyway; Pop and all our tías, tíos, and primos, so you don’t even need those fuckers.” His tone shifted to something softer, hearing in it how much he cared for you. “Cielito, mi amor, all I want is for you to be happy and to feel loved, and I will do everything in my power to make that happen—please, for me, when you decide what to do, you choose what makes you happiest; not what would make me happy and definitely don’t even think about their feelings because they’ve never done the same for you. I’ll stand by you no matter what.”
What he said had your eyes getting misty. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. More than anything.”
And you knew that was the truth.
“I didn’t tell you the whole story,” you said, “and this is where I get confused about the entire interaction.”
“What happened…?”
“So, I kinda bragged about how much of a hot shot you are in the drug enforcement community and that you make decent money, and I think I somehow made my mom like you? I know it sounds fake, but Javi, she wanted to hire us a wedding planner and pay for the whole event that she was going to invite a hundred and fifty people to…”
You left out the lawyer bit because you were going to nip that in the bud when she got around to talking to you about it.
“Uh, what…?”
“It was fucking weird, babe! She even told me to tell you hi when we were getting off the phone!”
“Me? Are you sure…?”
“Yeah! It makes zero fucking sense. Our conversation started with her basically telling me my life decisions were trash and that there’s nothing in Laredo worth staying for—she actually said she was happy I hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant. Like, that’s so fucking rude. Then her tone had completely changed by the end of the call, and she was pro-you and pro-us getting married.”
“Interesting…” You could picture him sitting at his desk, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip while we pieced together the information you’d given him and analyzed it for any indication of more going on.
“Are your Detective Peña senses tingling?” you asked. “Do you think they’re up to something?”
“I’m not sure… But I could just be paranoid about people trying to fuck with our relationship.”
“Oh god, what if we are being paranoid and overthinking this entire thing? We might be looking a gift horse in the mouth, and my family really has warmed up to you.”
He scoffed, “Tal vez cuando las vacas vuelen (Maybe when cows fly),” he muttered. “It seems too good to be true,” he said. “But, there’s a chance hell did freeze over, and Daphne and Velma grew wings.” He sighed. “My hopes aren’t very high, though; at this point, all we can do is see what happens.” He suddenly sounded panicked, “Cariño, ¿los invitaste a nuestra boda (Honey, did you invite them to our wedding)? ¿Tendré que conocerlos en persona (Will I have to meet them in person)?”
Javier Peña had a cute face, a cute face that naturally looked pissed off when it was resting and showed everything he was feeling. There was no doubt that in the presence of your family, his glares would be murderous, and he wouldn’t be able to hide his anger—which, honestly, delighted you. But you hated the idea of them coming to the place you called home and was your haven away from them, so you were never going to invite them to visit; if you had to, you’d go to them.
“Cálmate, mi amor (Calm down, my love),” you said. “No te preocupes (Don’t worry). I didn’t invite them, and I don’t even want them coming here. I did have to say we might visit them in a couple of months to keep them happy—I’m also gonna send my parents that blender my mother wants but refuses to buy because the one they have still works for Christmas. Hopefully, all that will tide them over for a while so we can figure out if their new attitude is legit or not.”
“Good idea.”
“Well, I better get back to work. I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Yes, you will. If you need me to get your mind off all this shit, just let me know. It’d take us about the same amount of time to meet at home…”
His offer made you smile. “Javier, is this your way of saying you’d like a nooner?”
“Maybe… I’m on edge and need to calm my nerves, and the best ways to do that is either having a cigarette or fucking—I’m sure you can guess my preference, but it wouldn’t be a big deal if I bummed a smoke off someone.”
“You’re in need of a medicinal cream pie,” you said in understanding, nodding your head. “I am also on edge and could use a medicinal orgasm or two. I’ll see you at the apartment, handsome, and the suit stays on—I’m riding Detective Peña into the sunset.”
You could hear his smile when he spoke. “Is that so?”
“Yep—you’ve been staring at my tits a lot lately, and I thought you’d enjoy them bouncing in your face.”
His groan confirmed your suspicion. “Minimum of two orgasms, keep the suit on, and you’re riding me on the couch—anything I’m missing?”
“Yeah, you coming inside me so I can go back to work all nice and stuffed.”
“Marry me.”
“I am,” you giggled. “We need to figure out a date.”
“January 11. Under the big oak tree on Pop’s land at sunset—that’s when we should do it.”
“Why the eleventh?” you asked, curious about why that date specifically.
“You agreed to be my girlfriend on the eleventh. You agreed to be my fiancée on the eleventh. It only seems right that I vow to love you forever on the eleventh of the New Year and hope you agree to be my wife then—Cielito, mi amor, mi vida mi media naranja, mi todo, (Cielito, my love, my life, my soulmate, my everything), will you marry me in twenty-eight days on January 11?”
Tears brimmed your eyes. “Yes, Javi! Absolutely, yes—it’s perfect.”
“Not as perfect as you,” he smoothly replied.
“You’re a sap.”
“—and your perfect tits.”
“A horny sap,” you laughed.
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tenelkadjowrites · 1 year
Text
Wallflower - Part Two - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
PART ONE HERE. PART THREE HERE.
🌻 Summary: The events of Sunday morning won’t leave your mind, and you are determined to figure out if every aspect of the rumor about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, is true.
🌻 Word count: 11.5k
🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. dirty talk. fingering. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie. 
🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.
this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
               You have a problem and it is one of your own making. In fact, it could even be considered two separate problems that are colliding.
               Problem one? You have no friends. After spending years striving to climb the corporate ladder in your quest for money and job security, all your real friendships fell apart and faded away. That meant that every one of your ‘friends’ were actually coworkers. The unhappier you got at your job, the more distant you felt from them, leaving you increasingly isolated.
               Problem two? You fucked around with a coworker. Most people would agree that to fuck a coworker, especially in an office setting, is a bad idea. Sure, it hadn’t turned into full on sex but you believed a general consensus of the situation would be that having your coworker eat you out to orgasm twice could be a short term pleasure without thinking of the long term ramifications.
               The way these problems collided was in the fact that you couldn’t talk to anyone about Seonghwa because you had no friends who aren’t directly tied to work.
               This meant that, while pressing the button in the elevator on Monday morning, you are left to the spiraling thoughts in your head without anyone’s help or advice.
               As the doors open and you step onto the floor, you immediately scan the area for Seonghwa. But you don’t spot him. All that you see is the usual Monday morning bullshit – people cramming donuts in their mouth, the scent of that cheap break room coffee, the typing of many keyboards, people gossiping by the water cooler about the party on Saturday, and the sound of various boring and tedious phone calls.
               The dread that blooms in your chest is enough to knock you off balance. Fuck, when did I start hating this place so much? It isn’t as if working here ever gave you a ton of joy. Office work was often tedious, dry and dull. But the money was supposed to wipe that all away. So…why wasn’t it?
               You throw your bag down at your desk, sitting down and staring at your reflection in the computer screen for a few seconds before turning it on. As it boots up, you roll your chair back a little and glance over at Seonghwa’s cubicle. It is empty but his bag is there, making your heart skip a beat. Turning your attention back to your computer, you open up your e-mail, dreading everything that might have come in over the weekend.
               You had been steadfastly trying not to think of Seonghwa since he dropped you off yesterday. That proved to be difficult. Actually, impossible. You couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt when he kissed you or how he looked when his tongue was working your clit.  It’s been difficult merging the images of Seonghwa in the past as just your nerdy coworker with what happened last night.
               “Good morning,” comes the very voice you are thinking about.
               You flinch in surprise, looking over your shoulder to see Seonghwa standing there. He wears a pale blue button up, neatly tucked into the top of his khaki slacks. A black belt loops around his waist. He looks the exact same as he does every single day but this time…
               “Hey,” You reply, spinning in your chair to face him.
               We’ll see about that, baby is what Seonghwa had said when his fingers were buried in your cunt. The words bounce around in your brain as your gaze flicks to his hands quickly before back at his face.
               He looks a little shy but stares at you resolutely through his oversized glasses. “Your car is still at the bar, right? Do you want me to take you there after work so you can get it? I drove today just in case…”
               “Yes, please,” You reply, relieved, “I had to Uber this morning and the driver was one of those guys who wear like…the driver gloves. You know what I mean? Like, you’re not Ryan Gosling and I’m in a Tesla. Anyway, it was intense and uncomfortable and I was not looking forward to another ride after work.”
               He laughs. You’ve seen Seonghwa laugh before and it’s always fascinated you how it looks like he’s in mild pain when doing so. Now, it is kinda endearing.
               “I’m leaving on time today because I spent all of yesterday here and I could really do with some sleep.”
               “I’m leaving on time today because I just don’t want to be here,” You reply without thinking.
               Seonghwa laughs again but his gaze lingers on you a beat too long which makes your insides swirl. You suddenly are thinking about his tongue against your clit again. His mind must be traveling along the same thinking because he suddenly glances away, looking shy.
               “Uhm, so you were here for a long time yesterday?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation as normal as possible.
               “Yeah, the entire day and most of the night. I got home around one.”
               You shudder. The idea of spending that long in the office is nightmare fuel.
               Seonghwa continues, “But we got what we needed finished. See?”
               He is pointing to your computer screen. Your e-mail has finished loading (another shudder) but you aren’t sure what you’re looking at.
               “What?” You finally ask.
               “Oh, the update notif, see? Here, I’ll show you.”
               Seonghwa walks into the cubicle, leaning down to grab the mouse. He is very close to you although he’s busy clicking stuff on the computer. To be honest, you aren’t paying attention to whatever he’s doing. You’re thrown off by how it feels to be this close to Seonghwa, recalling how good he was at kissing.
               “There. It takes about ten minutes or so though,” He looks as if he is going to say more but that’s when he turns his face in your direction and suddenly looks nervous, trailing off.
               The two of you are extremely close. In fact, it’s so close that you could kiss Seonghwa easily. His lips are inches from yours. You can feel the warmth of his body and for one wild moment you just want to press your hands against his chest, pin him against the cubicle wall and kiss him until you are delirious.
               There is a touch of pink along his cheeks. You know what he is thinking about because you are too. You open your mouth to say…honestly, you aren’t sure but a sudden clatter makes Seonghwa leap away from you as if you have turned into a cold fish.
               “Oh, good, you’re here…uh with…Seonghwa?”
               It’s your gossipy coworker, her head cocked to one side, staring at Seonghwa and then at you.
               Seonghwa runs his fingers through his hair and says quickly, “Good morning! I was just pushing the software update through on her computer! Do you need any help with yours?”
               Your coworker drawls, “No, I think I can figure out how to press ‘update’, thanks.”
               Her tone is so dismissive that you feel irked. Seonghwa nods, quickly saying bye and scurries out of the cubicle, leaving you alone with your coworker.
               “Just wanted to see if you made it back to your place in one piece.”
               You could’ve texted, you think in a slightly bitter way but just go, “Yup, I did. Had a bit of a headache but nothing too bad.” Oh and the nerd you just quickly dismissed made me cum twice with just his fingers and tongue but I’m not about to tell you that.
               “You were so wasted, oh my god. Never seen you get that fucked up at a function before. But don’t worry, you were a pretty boring drunk and there’s nothing being said about you. Apparently, this guy in accounting got super trashed and barfed all over the bar countertop after I left so that’s what everyone is talking about this morning.”
               You feel weary. You dislike how confined the office feels, hate being smushed into your cubicle, tired of listening to the same gossip every week. You’re chafing at the repetition. You’re just happy that the rumor about Seonghwa is becoming old news because you aren’t sure about your ability to keep a poker face if it comes up.
               You’re waiting for your coworker to mention her comment about you being weird lately. But she keeps talking about the guy throwing up and you realize she doesn’t think you remember it. You could bring it up yourself but can’t muster the energy. She isn’t wrong, after all, but you don’t want to talk to her about how you’ve been so unhappy at work lately.
               “Oh, your computer update is done,” She finally stops talking, pointing to your screen, “Alright, I guess I should go. You coming out for coffee later?”
               “Uh, yeah, I’ll be there.”
               She walks off with a small wave, leaving you alone at your computer. Lost in thought, you think back to something Seonghwa said in the earlier conversation. I drove today just in case. He did that so he could take you to your car. The thoughtfulness touches you, makes your stomach feel weird in a way you can’t explain.
               Trying to wipe Seonghwa from your mind, you steel yourself to begin working through the emails with a small sigh.
*
               Running late to meet with Seonghwa, you hurriedly press the elevator button. A call had gone over the allotted time, leaving you scrambling to get out of the office before something else kept you. Sir Dipshit was just exiting his office as you scurried away. Now, you just need the fucking doors to close before you get stuck with him…
               Luckily, they glide shut just as he rounds the corner. Exhaling slowly, you rub your forehead. You’ve been nursing a headache since early afternoon. All you want to do is get the hell out of this building so your skin can stop crawling.
               A few minutes later, you are out in the parking lot. Seonghwa is waiting by his shit heap of a car, typing on his phone and doesn’t see you. Your heart skips a beat when you see him which you steadfastly ignore. We’re just friends, you scold yourself.
               “Hey,” You say and he looks up, smiling. “Sorry I was late. I got stuck on a call.”
               “It’s no problem,” He replies as the two of you get inside his car.
               After snapping in your seatbelt, you watch as Seonghwa curls his hands around the steering wheel. Your thighs clench at the sight and you wish that it could be possible to wrangle yourself under control. But you want him so badly that all you can think about is if he is going to kiss you or touch you or –
               “How was your day?” He asks casually, clearly oblivious to what is on your mind.
               “Fine,” You mumble, not wanting to say more in case you start complaining about how much you’ve hated work lately.
               As the car comes to a halt at a red light, he looks over at you. “How long have you been working here? I know you were already working here when I started two years ago.”
               “Six years or so.” Wow, has it really been that long?
               “When did you start experiencing burn out?”
               “What?”
               Seonghwa blinks behind his large glasses. “Your…work burnout. Sorry, am I overstepping?”
               “N-no, I just…haven’t thought of it like that before. I mean burn out from what? Having a steady, good paying job? I’m just in a rut.”
               “Alright,” You get the feeling he wants to say more but he is holding back, “When did the rut begin?”
               The light turns green and Seonghwa turns his attention back to the road as you reply, “Maybe…a year or so ago. It just keeps growing though. And I don’t know how to get out of it. I worked really hard to get to this spot and I still have more of the corporate ladder to climb so I’m annoyed with myself for feeling so disengaged. I hate going. I hate being there. I hate walking into that lobby and I hate how slow the elevator is. I hate how cramped the cubicles are cuz the company is too cheap to get a bigger building. I hate how disorganized everything is and I hate how everything, every single day, is the same. I hate that I have hours of nothing to do and I have to pretend to look busy. I hate how much Sir Dipshit talks and the stupid work events we need to attend or we won’t hear the end of it. I hate how when I am not at work, I spend every moment dreading going to work. And I hate how pointless it all feels.”
               You blink, realizing that you’ve gone on a gigantic rant while Seonghwa drives. But you’ve never actually stated these things aloud to anyone before and the words hang heavy in the car.
               “Can I be honest?” He says after a moment.
               “Uh, yeah, sure.”
               “That doesn’t really sound like a rut. It sounds like burnout combined with maybe just straight up hating your job.”
               “I don’t hate it,” You say weakly, knowing how absurd that sounds.
               Seonghwa shoots you a glance out of the corner of his eye. “I think you used the word ‘hate’ numerous times in that speech.”
               “Right but…you don’t feel that way about your job?”
               “No. I mean, some days sure, I don’t want to go in. That’s normal. No different than being a kid and not wanting to go to school. But I go, and when I leave, it’s just out of my mind. I focus on other things that give me joy. What do you do to relax from work?”
               The question is such a normal one that you’re horrified when nothing comes to mind. “I…watch TV.”
               “What are your hobbies?”
               “I like to read…although I haven’t really read a book in awhile.” Wow, your answers are dismal. “I just never have the energy for anything.”
               “It’s hard to make time when we work so much. But it’s still important to do stuff that has nothing to do with work. We don’t just exist to be at our jobs. We need to do other things too. Things we find enjoyable.”
               Well, I was enjoying myself yesterday, you think but stop yourself from saying. You get the feeling Seonghwa isn’t talking about sex being the only outlet from work.
               He makes a right turn and the bar comes into view. You can see your car parked and tell Seonghwa that it is yours. He parks next to it, shifting his body to look at you. He looks serious.
               “Maybe this job worked for you years ago. But it’s okay if it doesn’t fit the current you.”
               At this, you protest, “Wrong. I worked way too hard for this job. I dragged my ass through the dullest business courses at school and landed an annoying internship right out of college. This is what I’ve been working for.”
               “Okay, you’ve been working towards it but is it what you want?”
               You are starting to feel disgruntled and aren’t sure why. “What do you mean?”
               “A lot of the times, we just go after something because we are told we’re supposed to want it either by parents, or society or whoever. But in quiet moments, we should think about what we want. If this job no longer aligns with what you want, then there is no harm in looking for new work.”
               “No way,” You scoff, “I’ve worked too hard for this.”
               “Alright,” Seonghwa relents, “I don’t mean to be pushy but I had a friend deal with a job he hated and it sucked the soul right out of him. I just wouldn’t want that to happen with you.”
               Curiously, you ask, “What happened with your friend?”
               “Wooyoung worked in the same line as me, just at another company. Eventually, he hated it so much that he quit on the spot with no work lined up. He didn’t know what he wanted, just that he couldn’t stand working in a cubicle anymore.”
               “And now?”
               “Runs a little tarot shop in the historic district.”
               “Wow, that’s a big change.”
               “He always dabbled in that stuff for fun but he said he got…some dream or something one night about running a shop like that. Saw himself happy with a blossoming clientele in some city where he was working alongside our mutual friend San. It was enough to prompt him to make some changes. Gave him some clarity.”
               You chew on this for a moment. But when you think of the future, all you see is your cubicle. Making any sort of drastic change like that seems impossible. Besides, like you said to Seonghwa, you worked so hard for this. Why ruin it just because you don’t like it? Almost everyone hates their job now. It’s completely normal to hate your job, right?
               “Well, thanks for dropping me off. I appreciate it.” You are anxious to get away from Seonghwa if only because it feels as if he really sees you which is gratifying but also unnerving at the same time.
               “One more thing,” He says quickly, “Uhm, well. I was wondering if you’d like to come to the movies with me tomorrow night.”
               Your hand had been on the door handle but now you look over your shoulder at him. In the setting sun, the orange hue reflects on his blonde hair at a slant, making it look golden. There is something so soft and inviting about Seonghwa, something you didn’t notice about him until you actually spoke to him because of the rumor.
               “What movie?”
               “Well, this week the theatre in old town is showing the Star Wars movies and tomorrow night is The Empire Strikes Back. I’m too tired to go tonight for A New Hope but if you’d like to come with me tomorrow…”
               You think you saw the movie randomly a long time ago because a vague memory of a ship flying around an asteroid field comes to mind. If it were anyone else but Seonghwa, the refusal would come quickly and easily. But…
               “Sure. What time?”
               “Be there around 7:30. I’ll wait out front for you,” He looks relieved as if he was expecting a rejection, “Do you have my number? I know we’re supposed to have everyone’s numbers because we’re on the same team but I wasn’t sure…”
               You scroll through your phone, surprised to realize that you do in fact have Seonghwa’s number. To your chagrin, you had put the nerd emoji after his name.
               “Oh, I do have it.”
               “Okay. I have yours so just text me if anything comes up and you can’t make it.”
               “Alright,” You push open the door, stopping briefly to look one last time at him, “Thanks again.”
               You take note of the fact Seonghwa makes sure you get in the car, that it turns on okay, and you drive out of the parking lot before he pulls out of the space.
*
               This isn’t a date. You’re just going to see some Star Wars movie with the nerdy guy from your office. Who is your friend. Who gave you two amazing orgasms but has not indicated that he would like to continue anything further.
               You’re parked in front of the theatre, hands gripping the steering wheel, mentally bolstering yourself for the night ahead. You have successfully managed to overthink the entire Seonghwa situation, including the fact that since the events the other night, there has been no forward motion on anything else.
               Maybe he didn’t have fun, you think, turning off the car and getting out. I mean, you’re just assuming he did and that it would lead to more but you haven’t exactly asked him and he hasn’t said anything about enjoying it. Wow, I really need friends. I wonder if Seonghwa has mentioned me to his fellow group of nerds or if he’s too shy. Or maybe he hasn’t mentioned me because what happened before isn’t that rare of an occurrence and I am just assuming it is because he’s a nerd. Maybe in reality he sleeps around a lot. I mean, he’s handsome. I mean that in a handsome but not in my type of handsome sort of way. You know –
               “Oh, hey, you’re here,” Seonghwa says, relieving you of your exhausting and never ending mental monologue.
               “Worried I would change my mind?”
               “Maybe just a little,” He replies bashfully.
               Seonghwa is wearing slacks and a black sweater which hangs off his slender frame. He looks comfortable and warm. You’re glad that you didn’t dress up because as far as you know, this is just a casual night out with a friend and nothing more.
               “Well, I’m here,” You gesture to yourself.
               Seonghwa pushes up on his glasses and smiles. Together, you walk into the theatre which is pretty quiet. It didn’t appear as if people were storming the building to watch The Empire Strikes Back. This is confirmed when you go into the theatre itself and only a handful of people are inside.
               Taking your seats, the movie starts soon after. Seonghwa seems to be engrossed immediately, his eyes staring at the screen with rapt attention. You wonder how many times he’s seen this film. His hand is resting on his knee and you are fighting the urge to reach for him. But something stops you – maybe it is that Seonghwa is glued to the movie, maybe it is because you just aren’t sure if that would be making things too date like, or perhaps it is because secretly you’re afraid of his rejection. Regardless of the reason, you keep your hands to yourself.
               At some point in the film, you lean over to ask a question and Seonghwa tilts his head in your direction. “Where’s that blue guy?”
               “What?” Seonghwa sounds baffled.
               “The blue guy with the red eyes. He was on the cover of your book,” You whisper.
               The corners of his mouth quirk up as he fends off a smile. He turns to look at you. One side of his face is doused in the colours of the cloud city on the movie screen, making his hair glow.
               “He’s not in the movies,” Seonghwa whispered back.
               You make a noise of understanding and mild confusion. But he is still staring at you in a way that is making your insides turn. For a split second, you think that Seonghwa is going to lean forward and kiss you. It hits you with a heavy intensity that you desperately want him to kiss you. No, not just kiss you. You want his hands back on you. You want him naked against you and you want him inside you.
               Seonghwa turns back to the screen then, leaving you with a fast beating heart and a swooping feeling in your stomach that you can’t believe is connected to the nerdy guy watching Star Wars with you.
*
               “It’s Thrawn,” Seonghwa says afterwards as you exit the theatre together.
               “What?”
               “The guy on my book cover. It’s Thrawn. In the 90s, he started out as the main villain in a trilogy of books set after the original trilogy of movies. That kinda started the entire expanded universe of Star Wars lore. Later on, it got retconned in the buyout of 2012 but they put him back in the canon later on cuz he’s such a fan favourite,” Seonghwa explains as you shiver in the colder night air.
               “That explains why that book looked so well worn,” You muse.
               He looks sheepish. “Yeah, I’ve read that trilogy a lot. I know it’s not canon anymore but…well, I’ve read it so much now that it’s comforting. I like to go back to it every few years. But there’s new canon books about him too that I’ve read.”
               “I miss feeling that way about books,” You mumble, “Like finding them comforting, reading a book for an entire afternoon or something and doing nothing else.”
               “You should pick up an older book like that. One you used to like. Maybe that would help you to relax and not think about work.”
               “Maybe,” You pause for a moment before going, “I don’t think about work when I’m with you though.”
               Surprise flickers across Seonghwa’s face and then he looks down at his feet for a second. You feel embarrassed at your admission, wondering if it is going to make him uncomfortable. You had already drunkenly told him that you felt safe around him even though you only got to truly know him in the past week.
               Although you want to be quiet, your mouth seems to have other plans. “I feel disconnected with everyone else at work. I don’t know if it’s just because how I feel about the job in general or what. But I don’t think I can talk to them like I talk to you. I know that sounds silly because we only just started talking but…” You trail off, unsure how to finish.
               Seonghwa takes a step towards you and the space in between your bodies close. You shiver again as the wind kicks up. Tentatively, he reaches out with his hands and brushes his fingers along your arms. Goosebumps break out across your skin.
               “Are you cold? I might have an extra hoodie in my car.”
               “I’ll be okay,” You say, your breath catching at the touch.
               His hands linger there for a moment before Seonghwa pulls away, looking unsure. He looks as if he has something he wants to say but isn’t sure how to word it.
               “Thanks for inviting me,” You say, trying to turn the conversation away from your admission, “Star Wars isn’t really my thing but I still had fun.”
               “I did too.” His nerves radiate off him, an energy that is brimming just underneath the surface.
               But Seonghwa doesn’t kiss you nor make any sort of move and you’re too in your head to do anything about it. You take a step backwards, giving him a small wave.
               “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
                “Right, yeah, tomorrow. Uhm…” He swallows, “Text me when you get home so I know you’re alright.”
                 The words threaten to make your cheeks warm but luckily it is too dark for Seonghwa to see. “Okay.”
                 He nods and you turn around, walking to your car. You can feel his eyes on your back. You’re struggling with the random assortment of emotions bouncing around in your brain. It’s confusing to want Seonghwa this much even though you don’t understand what draws you to him. You want him to make a move but he doesn’t seem like the type to do so because he’s so shy or he’s lost interest in you physically. All you know is what started out as curiosity over a rumor seems to be shifting into just simply wanting him.
*
               “What’s up with you talking to Seonghwa so much? You still thinking about that rumor?”
               You’re at the coffee shop with your coworkers for lunch hour. After suffering through a long meeting this morning with Sir Dipshit, time is crawling along. You’re missing the times when your coffee break used to perk you up. Now, nothing seems to soften the blow of the long days.
               Your coworkers are all staring at you like you’re a fish in an aquarium. You shift awkwardly in your chair. “Yeah, I was thinking about it when I first approached him. But not so much anymore.”
               “Yeah cuz like I said he’s boring,” Your gossipy coworker interjects, “I talked to him at the work party thinking maybe there was something I’m missing about him but there obviously isn’t. He was talking about some…video game called Animal Crossing. I think that regional manager was lying about how good he is in bed cuz she can’t believe she slept with him.”
               You want to defend Seonghwa but you also don’t feel like talking about him eating your pussy out like a pro. The thing between you and Seonghwa feels private, something that doesn’t belong to work – the only thing currently in your life that doesn’t feel tied to work which is funny given the fact the two of you are coworkers.
               On top of that, you aren’t even sure of your own feelings for Seonghwa. What started out as curiosity shifted to straight up desire and now it’s shifting yet again. You’d rather fake your own death and flee the country than invite any discussion of that with your coworkers.
               “He’s cute if you can look past his gigantic glasses,” Another coworker chimes in, “But I’m not dating a guy into Legos.”
               “Wasn’t your ex one of those guys who painted his face before a sports game?” You say in a pointed tone.
               “Uh…yeah?”
               “Some people might argue that is more of a turn off than Legos.”
               This flusters your coworker and also signals a shift away from Seonghwa into shit talking the mentioned ex. You lean back in the chair, the conversation sliding through your head like water. You’re thinking about Seonghwa’s friend and how he started his own store. But I have no experience in that. And what type of store would I even run? You drum your fingers against the table, mentally scolding yourself for even thinking such a thing. You didn’t work this hard or for this long just to leave your cushy job cause it’s boring.
               Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, it will eventually click.
*
               Later that evening, you’re staring at the TV but not really thinking about the show. You have wandered to the existential dread you’ve been experiencing every night before going to bed because of work looming the next day. On top of that, your mind flickers to Seonghwa as you sort through your attraction and how much you like spending time with him. There is something quiet about him, a stillness in his centre of someone completely at ease with himself, his hobbies and his job – all things currently that you do not possess.
               You’ve been steadfastly trying not to think about the morning he went down on you but you’re losing the battle tonight. Laying among the pillows on your bed, you are picturing the way his tongue looked against your clit, the sensation of his fingers in you and how his voice sounded while talking dirty.
               You’re wet now and fighting the urge not to throw caution to the wind and ask if Seonghwa wanted to fuck. We had an entire discussion about the rumor. Would he be so surprised if I brought it up again? But you’re still unsure if he has changed his mind since –
               Your phone buzzes and to your surprise, Seonghwa’s name appears alongside a text. You feel caught as if he somehow knew you were thinking about him and unlock your phone to read the message.
               “Are you busy?”
               “No,” You type back, “Just watching TV. Is something wrong?”
               The three dots pop up and disappear multiple times. You’re on edge now, wondering what in the world Seonghwa could be struggling with that takes so long to send.
               After a minute, his reply finally pops up. “I’m sorry if I am out of bounds but there’s just something on my mind.”
               You sit up straighter, eyes glued to your phone as the dance of the three dots continues. You wish he would type faster but he keeps stopping and restarting. You wonder if the stuff your annoying coworkers at lunch has somehow gotten back to him and he’s mad at you not defending his pussy eating skills or something. You immediately feel silly for thinking such a thing as Seonghwa doesn’t give off any energy that he’s the sort of person who would want you defending his sexual prowess.
               Finally, Seonghwa’s message appears. “I was just wondering if you’re still interested in the rumor about me.”
               You stare at the words in surprise.
               Seonghwa immediately starts typing when you don’t reply after five seconds, sending multiple messages in rapid fire succession until it fills your screen. “I completely understand if you’ve changed your mind after what went on between us on Sunday morning. If it wasn’t pleasurable for you or if just simply hanging out around me made you lose interest in doing anything else. I know we are friends even if we decide not to bring anything else physical into it. I’ve just spent the last few days overthinking it because we’ve been alone a couple of times since then and nothing has happened. I know I’m not very good at making the first move because I grow nervous and I get in my head a lot. And frankly, my friends are sick of hearing me drone on about it and Hongjoong told me just to call and ask. But calling is giving me a lot of anxiety so I’ve settled for texting. But now that I’ve started this conversation via text I am worried that it is coming across as deeply impersonal for a matter like sex. Should I call? Would it be weird to call about this? Would it make you more uncomfortable to talk about it on the phone or through texts? Wow, sorry, I’ve really typed a lot. I’ve mentioned before I can talk a lot. Type a lot? I’m done now, sorry.”
               You stare at the message, feeling both relief that you have both been overthinking and a certain giddiness at the fact Seonghwa is bringing this up.
               But you don’t want to add to his anxiety so you try to type as quickly as possible. “I’m still interested in the rumor. I just wasn’t sure if maybe what happened on Sunday had you change your mind or maybe it wasn’t as enjoyable for you as it was for me.”
               Seonghwa’s reply is hurried and you can feel the slightly panicked energy on the other side. “It was enjoyable for me! Like I said, I’m not good with making any first moves. Someone either has to be blunt with me or it has to be so extremely obvious of their interest or I end up second guessing myself. On Sunday, you were so honest about…everything that it was hard to misunderstand things. But since then, I thought maybe you just simply changed your mind.”
               You chew on your bottom lip, zoning in on the phrase about being blunt. Throwing caution to the wind, you type out, “Would you like to stay over Friday night?”
               Immediately, the response appears.
               “Yes, I’d like that.”
*
               You exhale slowly, running your fingers over your skirt. Seonghwa is due to show up any minute now and you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach.
               The rest of the week hadn’t been awkward, exactly, but all your small interactions with Seonghwa felt emotionally charged. Both of you knew what was going to happen come Friday night and you thought the whole office must have sensed it. It was in every lingering gaze Seonghwa sent your way, in the manner that you would walk past his cubicle just to see him, and how he would make you a cup of coffee in the breakroom and brush his hand against yours while handing it over.
               On top of that, you gave up on not thinking about Sunday and masturbated to Seonghwa every night that week. Your desire for him was at fever pitch, eclipsing everyone else you’ve ever wanted. You were desperate to know if he fucked as good as he ate pussy.
               You aren’t playing coy tonight. If Seonghwa worked the best with someone being blunt, then you were wearing the equivalent of a bludgeon. Your skirt ended just under your ass, knee high socks with a small bow at the top, and your shirt is low cut, exposing cleavage. The entire outfit is black although your matching bra and underwear are a deep red. There is nothing subtle about the outfit. This makes you nervous at being so forward but exhilarated at how open you are.
               A sudden knock on the door breaks you out of your thoughts. You slowly walk over to the door, taking a second to collect yourself and then you open it.
               Seonghwa stands there, in black slacks again and a form fitting simple white t-shirt. A black bag is slung over his shoulder. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him in just a short sleeved t-shirt before. The sight of his exposed arms sends a jolt through you. Wow, he really is fit, you think as your eyes drag across his well toned arms down to his flat stomach. The fabric of the shirt is thin enough that you can just make out hard muscles underneath. His waist is slender, almost dainty, and a belt hangs off his hips loosely.
               “H-hey,” You say, trying to collect yourself.
               Seonghwa looks as if you popped out of the front door with a baseball bat. His eyes rake across your body so openly that you don’t think he is even aware he’s doing it. He looks slightly dazed, and when he notices how short your skirt is, he swallows hard. There is a touch of colour on his cheeks and his eyes are wide behind his big glasses.
               “Uh, hi,” He manages to squeak out, “How are you?” His tone is formal but he is squeezing the strap of his bag so hard that his knuckles are white.
               “I’m alright. Come in,” You move to the side and Seonghwa enters so nervously that you think of a timid deer in the woods, “You want anything to drink?”
               “Just water, please.”
               You nod and turn around to head towards the kitchen. You can practically feel Seonghwa’s slack jawed stare at the skirt brushing against the bottom of your ass as you leave. Once in the kitchen, you try to slow down the fast beating of your heart. You didn’t think seeing him would throw you so off balance. But you’re already wet.
               When you return to the living room, Seonghwa is sitting on the couch, looking incredibly nervous. You hand him the glass and sit down next to him. His eyes drop to your exposed thighs and he gulps down half the glass immediately before angling his body to face you.
               “Can I be honest with you?”
               For a second, you suddenly worry that he has changed his mind. Too afraid to speak, you merely nod.
               “I’ve never come over to someone’s place with the knowledge it’s going to be for sex so I am out of my element and I’m kinda worried I am just going to…blank out and forget how to…do…everything.”
               The admission is endearing, the flustered way Seonghwa is squirming even more. It is jarring because this is something that normally would not be a turn on. Everything about Seonghwa takes you by surprise – from the rumor down to how much you want to sleep with him.
               “We don’t have to –”
               He interrupts swiftly, “No, I want to. Trust me, I want to. I just…have had a lot of time to overthink.”
               You lean back on the couch, grabbing the remote. “So, we won’t just jump into it. We can just watch TV. You’re staying the night. So…there’s no hurry.”
               Seonghwa relaxes slightly, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders. He still sits a bit stiffly though and you can almost see him overthinking everything. From this angle, your eyes trace the muscles in his back, the way the t-shirt lays against his skin and the curve of his neck.
               After about ten minutes of idly watching some boring cooking show, you speak up, “I’ve never seen you in like…a short sleeved t-shirt before.”
               Seonghwa looks down at his torso for a second before going, “Oh…I guess you’re right.” He looks mildly confused, unaware of the impact a simple white t-shirt can have.
               “Didn’t think you’d be working out that much,” You can’t help it – you’re teasing him.
               And it works. His face turns red as he sputters, “My friend Jongho takes it seriously so I tag along with him most times.”
               “You seem to keep quite the busy schedule between work, your friends and all your hobbies,” You say, thinking about how your own free time is spent dreading work, “Hey, weren’t you watching those Star Wars movies in the theatre this week? Are you missing one tonight?”
               Seonghwa leans back on the couch and tilts his face to look at you, his expression a bit shy. “Uhm, yeah, I am missing one tonight. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
               “Are you sure?”
               “Yeah, it’s Attack of the Clones tonight,” He says as if that means anything to you, “I mean I’ve seen them all a thousand times so it’s alright to miss some. Besides,” Seonghwa looks nervous now, “I would rather uh…be here with you.”
               You want to make a joke about how having sex with you wins out over Star Wars but he looks so delicate in his attempt to flirt that you decide against it. Instead, you reach over and take his hand, holding it gently. Seonghwa swallows again, his eyes dropping to your exposed thighs.
               He shifts his weight, leaning forward a little, his eyes asking a question that you’re happy to give an affirmative answer to. You meet him in the middle, your lips touching his lightly at first. His hold on your hand tightens from nerves and then he is kissing you like he did before in that manner that makes your stomach swoop and body stir with desire.
               His hand breaks free of its hold on yours so that he can run it up along your thigh, touching the fabric of your skirt. His breath hitches as his other hand comes down on your thigh. He trails his fingertips along your skin, making you shiver. Seonghwa doesn’t stop doing that as he begins to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. You don’t think you’ve ever been so wet before just from someone barely touching your thighs and kissing you.
               “Do you wanna come to my room?” You breathe out shakily.
               “Yes,” He says seriously in between kissing your neck.
               “Your phone isn’t gonna interrupt us this time?”
               Seonghwa laughs a little and shakes his head. “I put it on silent. The office could burn down and I’d have no idea.”
               Relieved, you pull away and stand up although your legs already feel like jelly. Seonghwa takes your hand and trails after you into your bedroom. The curtains are still pulled back from the windows which open onto a small balcony. Your apartment is large, modern and expensive. At the time, it had been exciting to be able to afford such a place. Now, you’re too miserable to enjoy it and not entirely convinced it fits who you are anymore. But tonight, those worries and concerns don’t matter because you’re here with Seonghwa.
               You cross the room to close the curtains, feeling Seonghwa staring at your ass. The short skirt seems to be impacting him in the way you hoped. When you turn back around, he is already walking towards you. He reaches for your waist, pulling you against him with such an intensity that it takes your breath away.
               His lips are back on yours and his hands slide down, bunching the skirt in the palms of his hands as he grips your ass. You make a small noise of surprise in his mouth, feeling a large bulge against your thigh. Your hands move to the bottom of his shirt and pull it upwards, the kiss breaking so you can toss it off him.
               Your hands move down his chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath before circling around his slender waist. Seonghwa is nipping at your neck with his teeth, his hands going underneath the skirt to remove your underwear. You realize he wants the skirt and knee high socks to stay on and you feel secretly pleased that he enjoys them that much.
               Once your underwear joins his shirt on the floor, you move backwards towards the bed, your hands fumbling with the button on his pants at the same time Seonghwa is trying to take off your shirt. It ends up being a collision of limbs and the two of you accidently thunk your heads together.
               Seonghwa laughs and then takes a step away from you. “S-sorry, I guess I got a little overly excited.”
               “Me too,” You say, taking note of how fast your heart is racing.
               Seonghwa stares at you for a few seconds, his cheeks a bright red. His hair is tousled, his pants unbuttoned. In the gentle lighting of the bedroom, you take in the sight of his toned chest and stomach, your pussy so soaked it is like your brain has simply shut off and retired for the night.
               You reach up for his glasses, your hands hovering over them. “We kinda made a mess on these last time. Do you…”
               “No, I don’t need them. My vision is worse far away and you’re…well, you’re very close,” He murmurs.
               You remove his glasses gently, stepping away from Seonghwa to put them on the top of your dresser. With your back still to him, you pull your shirt off over your head and turn to face him. His breathing has quickened as you take your place in front of him. This time, you go for his shirt as he stares at your bra. His skin is hot to the touch as if the nerves and desire are buzzing around just underneath his skin.
               It takes you a second to once again admire his body, taking note of how good he looks; certainly the last thing you expected from nerdy Seonghwa. You drag one finger down along his stomach, stopping at the top of his pants.
               “W-wait,” He says suddenly and your hand freezes, wondering if he has decided against sleeping together.
You don’t think you’ve ever had so much anxiety about someone opting out of sleeping with you until this whole thing began with Seonghwa. Frozen in place, your gaze flicks upwards at him.
               Seonghwa looks embarrassed as he stammers out, “We can’t just – what I mean is…going right into it. We can’t. Not that I don’t want to,” He says quickly, “I do but you’re just – and I’m…” He takes a steadying breath. “You’re too tight for me. Right now. I have to get you ready.”
               You blink, staring at him in surprise and fine, maybe a jolt of excitement. The rumor of his big dick comes back to you full force and your eyes instinctively drop down to the bulge in his pants.
               “Is that what you were doing last time?” You ask curiously, remembering how his fingers in you and telling you that your pussy was tight.
               “Well, I did want to go down on you. But once my fingers were in you, I realized…you know?” Seonghwa is nervous, making you wonder how many times he’s had this conversation in the past, “So let me help.”
               If by help he meant making you feel that good again, you weren’t about to disagree. His hands slink up along your lower back up to the clasp of your bra which he undoes, peeling the fabric off your skin to expose your tits. His warm hands grope them, his thumbs grazing your nipples to watch the way you shiver from the touch. He brings his head down to your neck, lips against your skin. Even though you’ve been daydreaming for days about bouncing on his cock, you are quickly lost in the touches given by him.
               Seonghwa gently pushes you against the bed, indicating for you to sit down. As you do so, he slides to his knees, his large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. Exposed in front of him again, wearing just your skirt and knee high socks, you normally would feel nervous. But instead, you’re lost in the sight of Seonghwa’s broad shoulders, his long fingers pressing against your skin and how his eyelashes are dark smears against his cheeks as he looks at your cunt.
               Bringing his face forward, his tongue dips into your wet hole with an almost lewd slurping noise. You can feel his tongue probing your entrance to taste you, his hands still holding your thighs apart. Then Seonghwa drags his tongue upwards to flick against your clit, causing you to gasp.
               One hand moves off your thigh. You watch as he brings one finger to your entrance, pushing it carefully inside your tight hole. He pumps it slowly while rolling his tongue over your sensitive nub. Your chest rises and falls quickly with each movement of his finger and tongue, soft whimpers tumbling from your lips. Still, you remain propped up to watch Seonghwa, his eyes closed as he works on your pussy.
               Gingerly, he inserts a second finger. Still pumping his fingers at a leisurely pace, he switches to using the tip of his tongue against your clit like last time. It feels good, incredibly good, and your head rolls back a little as you moan out his name. He makes a small noise that sounds like a sigh when you do so, wiggling his fingers deep in your cunt.
               You’re somehow going to climax already. You aren’t sure how Seonghwa can get you off so fast. Your thighs shake and he keeps his other hand steady on your skin so that you can’t close your legs. The tip of his tongue feels delicious against your swollen clit, his fingers making a soft squishy noise with each pump.
               And then you’re cumming, your juices against his fingers, his tongue still flicking hard and fast against your clit. You fall back on the bed, no longer attempting to prop yourself up to watch, as your orgasm takes over. Seonghwa slows down his tongue as you wiggle against his fingers, wondering what it would be like to be stuffed with him.
               Even after your orgasm quiets, Seonghwa doesn’t stop moving his fingers. Instead, he murmurs, “That’s good. I’m going to add another finger and then you’re going to cum again.” His tone isn’t forceful or demanding – it is just matter of fact.
               Woozily, you go, “What?”
               “You heard me,” He hums quietly and then a third finger pushes into your cunt, “There you go, baby, take my fingers just like that.”
               You want to tell him you’ll do anything if he keeps talking to you in that tone but words seem to be eluding you at the moment.
               Seonghwa’s fingers are buried as far as they can go in you. He fucks you with them slowly, letting you recover from your orgasm. You can hear how wet you are.
               “Such a tight little hole. You’re going to be stuffed with my cock,” Seonghwa continues quietly, “But you’ve been…you’ve been thinking about that anyway, haven’t you?” He sounds a little shy with the question, as if he’s seeking affirmation and is hiding it behind dirty talk.
               “Y-yes,” You breathe out as his speed slightly increases.
               “Been thinking about my cock in you?”
               “Yes,” You repeat and his fingers feel so good that when his tongue goes back against your clit, you groan, your hand suddenly in his hair, gripping it in such a way that you can hear him grunt in approval, “Ever since I heard the rumor,” You admit.
               Seonghwa’s fingers move faster now. He doesn’t respond since he is too busy sucking on your clit in a way that makes your brain feel as if it is melting. Every few seconds he stops to wiggle his fingers inside you before resuming fucking you with them. You think you might be moaning his name – or it might be literal gibberish, you aren’t exactly sure. But Seonghwa doesn’t stop, just makes noises of approval when your hips buck and your grip on his hair tightens.
               Somehow, you’re going to cum again already. The entire situation feels a bit ridiculous: that someone you looked over a thousand times due to how nerdy he is can make you cum like this, that you never want him to stop because it feels too good, and that you’re about to finish all over his face.
               But you do, your climax just as intense as the one prior. Your back arches as you cum, enjoying how your juices coat his fingers as his tongue presses against your overstimulated clit. You’re suddenly grateful that your bedroom wall isn’t shared with a neighbor because you’re making way too much noise.
               Breathless, your eyes close as your orgasm winds down. Seonghwa removes his fingers and you can hear him sucking them clean loudly. Your legs hang off the bed. You feel fucked out and you haven’t even started yet.
               But it is the sound of Seonghwa unzipping his pants that finally makes you prop yourself up again. Seonghwa tugs his pants down his hips, exposing the top of his boxers. His hair is a mess from you gripping it and his face is smeared in your cum but he doesn’t seem to care. Good thing we took his glasses off, you think hazily.
               His pants hit the floor, leaving him in just his boxers. The bulge strains against the fabric and when he finally pulls them down and his cock springs free, you realize 1. The rumor was true and 2. Seonghwa was correct in trying to prepare you for him.
               “Fuck, okay,” You don’t realize you said this aloud until Seonghwa looks embarrassed.
               “We don’t – I mean, if it’s too much,” He stammers out.
               You can only stare at him incredulously at such a suggestion which only deepens the colour across his cheeks. You lean forward, curling your hand softly around his girth. He inhales sharply at the touch. Your hand looks positively small against the size of his cock. You aren’t even sure how much of it you could fit in your mouth but fuck if you aren’t going to try.
               Sitting at the edge of your bed with Seonghwa in front of you, your head tilts back to look up at him. He looks pretty, you realize while staring at him. You supposed he was always pretty but you never took much notice of it due to his clothes and big glasses. It seems laughable now to think he has spent all this time wandering around the office and you’ve been clueless to what he’s like…including in bed.
               Working up salvia in your mouth, you spit it out onto his cock, smearing it across the shaft. He exhales, eyes closing as you stroke him. You take the tip of his dick in your mouth, your tongue circling the tip slowly. Seonghwa groans softly as you take more of him. Your mouth opens wider to accommodate his size but it’s obvious from the start that you’re not going to be able to fit all of him. He seems to sense this because his eyes open, looking down at you.
               Even so, your tongue presses against the underside of his shaft as you suck his cock. Drool quickly pools at the bottom of your mouth, spilling out at the corner of your lips. You are still looking up at him, admiring the way his facial expressions subtly change with each movement. He looks sexy, you think, in that messy, turned on sort of way where his calm and pleasant exterior is quickly being destroyed.
               He makes a small whine in the back of his throat when you let his cock slip out of your mouth, covered in your drool and his precum. But when you slide back onto the bed and gesture for him to follow, he doesn’t waste a second.
               Seonghwa’s body presses against yours as the two of you kiss. Your hands are on the back of his neck, the kiss a mess of cum and spit. One of his hands is squeezing your tit, groping you as your legs wrap around his waist. You can feel his big dick pressing against your pussy. You whimper in his mouth, a quiet plea for him to fuck you.
               The kiss breaks. Seonghwa’s lips are slightly swollen from all the kissing. You realize at some point you must have bitten down on his bottom lip.
               “We’re gonna go slow,” He murmurs, “And if it’s too much, just tell me.”
               You nod although you have never been this determined in your life. Even the long hours at the office cannot compare to the determination of getting his big dick in you.
               He adjusts his position, his cock pressing at your entrance. Carefully, Seonghwa pushes forward. Loosening you up earlier combined with drooling over his dick helps because you can feel the head of him enter easily. He slowly continues, giving your pussy time to get used to how thick and large he is.
               It doesn’t take long to feel stuffed, your walls stretched out around his cock. Whenever your pussy tightens, Seonghwa stops. His breathing is shaky and you’re sure the only thing he wants to do is fuck you into the bed but he holds back.
               You’re actually feeling pretty accomplished. In fact, the entire thing was easier than you had been expecting –
               “Okay, that was halfway,” He says, and you can only stare at him.
               “What?” You reply, feeling as if you couldn’t take another inch, “I thought…”
               He grins, quick as a flash, before going, “You thought that was all of me?”
               “I mean, I feel…uh, pretty full,” You say bashfully, “I just assumed…”
               Seonghwa brings his body close to yours, his arms sliding underneath your back. Pressed against him, your legs tighten around his hips and another half an inch slides in. You gasp a little in surprise, your pussy tightening.
               His lips are near your ear and he whispers, “Relax for me,” When you do so, he moves his hips ever so slightly so you can take more of him, “There you go, baby.”
               You shiver, your hands gripping his shoulders as he sinks deeper into your cunt. Your pussy is absolutely stuffed and you can’t imagine fitting more of him inside you. But it also feels amazing, your entire body warm from the pressure of his cock.
               “Fuck, you’re so tight,” Seonghwa grunts, going still for a moment, his head lowering and his hair brushes against your jawline, “Does it feel okay?”
               ‘Okay’ doesn’t seem like a good word to even describe how it feels for him to be inside you. Your fingers dig slightly into his shoulders as you reply, “Don’t stop.”
               More of his cock slides deeper. You wiggle your hips experimentally, seeing if it helps. It does as more of his girth stretches out your cunt. Seonghwa sharply inhales, his hands pressed hard against your back to stop himself from bucking his hips.
               You randomly think about all the times you’ve seen Seonghwa in the corner of your eye at the office, barely paying him any mind. He was just walking around work with a gigantic dick and I had no idea. If he hadn’t fucked that random regional manager, I still wouldn’t know.
               “Seonghwa?” You ask in a shaky voice.
               Seonghwa stops for a moment, pulling away from your neck to look at your face. “Everything okay?”
               “Y-yes.” For some reason it’s harder to ask the question when he is looking at you. “You ever sleep with anyone else at work?”
               “No!” He refutes quickly, “Did someone say I did?”
               “No, no, I was just…wondering,” He is looking at you curiously so you keep going, “I was just thinking about how long we’ve worked together and that I didn’t – I mean, never heard anything about you having a big dick until that manager at the conference.”
               “Right…” Seonghwa says slowly, clearly not following your train of thought.
               You gingerly reach upwards to sweep his hair out of his eyes. He takes this chance to rock his hips slightly, more of his cock entering your tight hole to make you gasp.
               “Just was thinking like…if I had known earlier. That’s all. But if you had slept with someone at work, it might’ve gotten around. Before now.”
               Something shifts behind Seonghwa’s gaze and he laughs softly before curling back around you. He is slowly rocking his hips now and with one final push, you inhale sharply, feeling as if you’re going to burst.
               “There,” He mumbles against your skin, “You took it all.”
               It seems ridiculous to feel so pleased but you do. Seonghwa doesn’t stop his small movements. His teeth gently bite down on your earlobe and then he speaks again. “Are you saying you would’ve tried fucking me earlier?” His voice is low in your ear, tingling down your spine.
               “Yes, I think so,” You mumble.
               “Would’ve let me bend you over my desk?” He continues and the words combined with his dick are making your head go light, “After everyone else leaves, you would’ve pretended to need my help for something? And by the end of the night, you would have my cock stuffed in your tight hole, letting me fuck you until you were dazed and drooling?” As he talks, he continues to rock his hips, very steadily increasing the speed as your pussy gets used to being stuffed full of him.
               The mental image is a vivid one. Hearing Seonghwa talk so dirty is turning you on even more. You curse quietly as your lips find his. There is nothing timid about this kiss, a sloppy and lustful mess as he begins to actually fuck you now. Your pussy is squeezing him so hard that you aren’t sure how he’s not cumming already. He can barely fit in your cunt but you’re so wet it doesn’t seem to matter.
               When the kiss ends, your lips are still touching so each word of his next sentence feels like a soft kiss. “And then by the time I’m finished unloading in your cunt and you manage to stand up, I can see that you drooled all over the papers I keep on my desk because every single thought in your head is wiped clean from my big dick.”
               Fuck, who taught the nerd to dirty talk? You think distantly. His thrusts are about as fast as he can go now without hurting you. Your pussy is not used to something this large but it doesn’t seem to be negatively impacting Seonghwa’s enjoyment. Your legs tighten around his waist as you try to move your hips to meet his. Seonghwa shifts his hands downwards, gripping your ass through the skirt now so he can drive his cock deeper.
               The angle change means he’s hitting your sweet spot now. You’re groaning and gasping out his name as your juices spread all over his cock and out of your hole, being squished out of you from how big he is. Seonghwa’s eyes are closed, chasing his own orgasm as your third one of the night draws closer.
               Your fingernails dig into his back, feeling his muscles move underneath your hands. He isn’t even fully thrusting, mostly rocking his hips at the highest speed your cunt can take. But he’s so big and you feel so stretched out around his girth, combined with the angle, and it doesn’t take much longer for your climax to hit.
               Your pussy tightens around Seonghwa’s cock and he groans, biting down on your neck hard enough to leave a mark. You can feel him spilling out inside you, the way he’s making a mess in your cunt. It leaks out around his length because there is so much of it as the two of you cum together in a blur of noise and skin against skin.
               Afterwards, Seonghwa carefully untangles himself from you, pulling out slowly. Your entire body feels like jelly as he plops down on the bed next to you, trying to catch his breath.
               Well, you think, I guess I’ve figured out the entire rumor is true.
*
               Seonghwa’s heart rate has slowed. You can tell because your head is resting on his chest. You are feeling sleepy and content which is the only reason you allowed yourself to snuggle up to him. It doesn’t matter that his fingers feel nice trailing along your neck or that he is warm and comfortable. It also doesn’t matter that you like how his toned stomach feels underneath your own hand. You’re just too tired to move off him.
               Seonghwa has been talking about how he cosplayed as Anakin Skywalker at some convention two years ago with his friend, Mingi. His entire friend circle sounds like the nerdiest group of people on the planet. But there’s a happiness whenever he talks about his time around them, something that you cannot relate to, given that everyone got cut off for your career.
               But you enjoy the lilt of his voice and the steadying presence of his body. If he was my type, he would be boyfriend material, you think, refusing to entertain any other idea that your brain might be trying to show you.
               “Are you listening?” Seonghwa asks quietly, breaking you from your thoughts.
               “Yes,” You reply, wiggling down against him with a yawn.
               “You know who Anakin is, right?”
               “Yes,” You are mildly affronted, “He’s the guy who taught Vader.”
               “No, that’s Obi-Wan,” He sounds vaguely mortified, “It’s fine.” You aren’t sure if that is directed at you or himself.
               “I wanna see this cosplay.”
               “I have pics on my phone but please don’t make me get out of bed. I can show you another time.”
               “But if you get out of bed, I can check out your butt.”
               Seonghwa makes a strange squeaking noise of embarrassment. You tilt your face upwards to look at him. The two of you had cleaned up a bit after having sex but his cheeks seemed to have a permanent red hue to them. You find it endearing.
               “Can I ask you something?” You want to see how red he can get. “Where did you learn to fuck like that?”
               The colour on his cheeks deepens. He squirms a bit, unable to look at you directly. “W-what?”
               “Where did you learn to fuck like that?” You repeat, taking great pleasure in Seonghwa’s nose scrunching up for a second. “I mean, sure the big dick is just bestowed upon you. But the pussy eating and the fingering and then making sure it’s not uncomfortable to take someone of your size and –”
               “Okay, I get it,” He squeaks out, his face pleasantly red, “I get it.”
               You drop the conversation, enjoying how flustered he looks. You lower your head back down onto his chest, yawning a little, eyes closing.
               “I’m ah…glad that you like how I…do things,” He says and you can hear his accelerated heart rate in your ear.
               “Do you date a lot?” This is just you being curious.
               “Sometimes. My last relationship was maybe a couple of years ago. It just didn’t work out. She wanted to move and I wanted to stay here. Ever since then, I usually just go on some casual dates here and there. Sometimes, it leads to sex. There was a woman about eight months ago that almost turned into something but in hindsight we just liked sleeping together a lot. It became all we did when we hung out so it didn’t feel like we really knew one another. But you’re the first person I’ve done this…friends with benefits thing.”
               “Right,” You mumble, disliking the weird twist in your stomach when he mentioned ‘friends with benefits’.
               “What about you?”
               “No. No time. My last relationship was four years ago. Sometimes I do a one night stand or a hook up here and there. But I’ve just been so busy with work that I think everything else sorta got sidelined.”
               Seonghwa chews on this for a moment before asking, “Do you regret that?”
               “I never did until recently. It feels like I’m regretting everything lately.”
               “Including work,” He states this as a fact.
               “Yeah, I guess so,” You brush it off, “But I don’t want to talk about work right now.”
               “You’re not regretting…uhm…”
               At this you laugh. “No, I am not regretting fucking you.”
               Seonghwa relaxes underneath you. Sleep is tugging on you for attention now. You hold onto Seonghwa tightly, too tightly and if you weren’t so tired, you would be telling yourself to pull away, turn on your side and fall asleep. But he still makes you feel safe and you’re too tired to push that away.
               You fall asleep against Seonghwa like that, with his heartbeat in your ear and his body against yours.
PART THREE HERE.
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